Arranged
by PSITeleport
Summary: Shikamaru has a mission to Suna, which must be completed before Tsunade's death. But there's more in store for him than a six-day round-trip and a paycheck. Shika/Tema Now revised, and with a brand new chapter!
1. Unexpected

**Chapter One**

**Unexpected**

"You can't be serious."

"Don't laugh, Kankuro. I'm tired."

"So you're going to commit sister-assisted suicide?"

"She won't kill me. She'll thank me. Eventually."

"Don't hold your breath."

"You have to understand; I would never do this to her if everything hadn't lined up perfectly. It's what's best for Suna. More importantly, it's what's best for her."

"More importantly? Really?"

"I don't expect you to spread that particular opinion around. I trust you."

"She's going to accuse you of playing god."

"She's right."

"She'll say that you're treating her like a child."

"That's ridiculous. If she was a child, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Gaara...she's going to call you O-tousan."

"...I'm expecting that."

"You know, your self-assurance is starting to make _me_ angry, and I'm not even your sacrificial goat."

"I'm sorry. You're free to be excused at your discretion."

"I think I'll take you up on that. But good luck. She's going to attack you. She may go for the balls."

"Thanks for the warning."

"As if you needed it."

**O O O**

Shikamaru dragged through the front door, kicking off his sandals and leaving them in the hall. Classes were over and it was three o'clock, his official, after-work nap time. And he needed it. The younger kids had been completely out-of-control; they'd given him a headache sometime around eleven and hadn't let up since. He couldn't really blame them. They always got this way in the spring: too much energy, and way too loud. They needed to be outdoors, not cooped up in a too-small, jury-rigged classroom learning facts and figures that they'd probably never use. _He_ needed to be outdoors. And he would be. Right after his nap.

That was the plan, anyway. He trudged up the stairs, feeling his brain reverberate painfully within his skull with each step. (Sixteen in all.) Then he went down the hall, into the room he shared with Chouji, shed his vest, and his shirt too, why not. Then he lay face down on his bed. He exhaled slowly, thoroughly, letting his body deflate and sink into the mattress. He was hot, tired, and a little bit brain damaged. This nap was going to be amazing.

There was a knock on the door. He felt his eyes slowly crack open, already glued together with sweat and sleep. This was not happening. There could not be an interruption to his plans, at least not until he'd accomplished the nap part. A second knock and he deduced that it was Dad; Mom's knocks would have been louder, brusque, and probably punctuated by random orders and sounds of agitation. Chouji and Ino wouldn't have knocked at all, and their parents didn't usually have a reason to come upstairs. But Dad might, and the knocks were patient. Even bored.

He groaned and pressed his face into his pillow. Maybe he could suffocate himself. Would that work? Would that be a good enough excuse to ignore Dad right now? Not likely.

"Come in," he finally called into his pillow. He heard the door slide open, and the footsteps of his father on the wooden floor.

"Shikamaru."

"What?"

"You have a mission."

He rolled his head to the side, dragging his face across his pillow, until he could see Dad. He blinked. "I do?"

A solemn nod.

"Can it wait? Just an hour or two?"

Dad crossed his arms and stood by Shikamaru's bed, quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was sober. "You need to have it completed before Tsunade's death."

Shikamaru turned and sat up in bed quickly, ignoring the stab of pain behind his right eye. The way Dad talked...it sounded as if Tsunade's time was a lot shorter then had been predicted. They had initially said that she had weeks left.

"Is she really that bad?"

Dad's eyes were unfocused, staring off into some space that Shikamaru wasn't privy to. He finally nodded slightly, his voice softer than normal, as if he was existing in both planes at once. "Yes. She only has a few days left. We'll be lucky if she lives a week, but three or four days is what they're predicting, now. And since your mission requires reporting to the Kazekage, you have to hurry."

"That's my mission? Reporting to Gaara?"

"I said that your mission _requires _reporting to him."

"Will he be giving me the rest of it?"

"Yes."

Shikamaru's head was spinning. Three or four days. A sudden trip to Suna. The Kazekage. Headache. _No nap_.

"Weren't _you_ just in Suna?"

"I was," Dad said. He was staring out the window, now, clearly distracted.

"Is my mission related to yours?"

Dad looked at him, giving him his full attention for the first time since he'd walked into the room. His tone left no room for argument. "I'd suggest you start packing, Shikamaru. Time is short."

* * *

**A/N:** So...yeah. I had to do it. I've been sitting on this fic for months, and it begged to be published. It was based on a premise that I thought, at the time, to be completely ridiculous, but now it seems more more likely. Or, not likely, so much as plausible. Imaginable. Upcoming manga events may render it AU, but I'm sticking with the idea. I just like it. The plot's been done a thousand times, but never by me. :)

Most chapters will open with a bit of untagged dialogue. Thanks for reading, and please leave me a review and let me know what you think so far! :D

[_This fic has been revised for formatting and minor changes on 11/24/10_.]

**Update for new readers, 11/24: **When I first started publishing this fic, almost a year and a half ago, it ran parallel to the then-current storyline. It has since diverged from the plot of the manga, as Kishimoto went one way, and I went another. But I've tried to keep things as in-line with canon as possible, and I think you'll still enjoy it. Let me know!


	2. Unfocused

**Chapter Two**

**Unfocused**

"You can't be serious!"

"Don't yell at me, Yoshino. I'm tired."

"So you're just giving up? You're throwing your son to the dogs?"

"The sister of the Kazekage is hardly a dog. And it wasn't a matter of giving up. There are a lot of reasons that I support this."

"Can I tell you all the reasons that I _don't_?"

"Can I stop you?"

"This is your son, Shikaku. What you're doing to him is barbaric. Can you imagine being sixteen and given no choice in a matter like this? And it isn't just him that I'm worried about. This girl...we don't really know anything about her. What she's like, how well they get along, anything like that. What if she makes his life miserable?"

"I've considered all of that, believe me. I'm not saying it's going to be easy. But you know how tenuous our hold on our alliance with Suna is right now. Danzo's bloodthirsty. We need an additional bond between our villages; something he can't easily deny."

"You know what this is going to look like, don't you?"

"I can't afford to care."

"You're starting a civil war, and you're putting your son in the middle of it. Give me one reason why I should let you sleep in my bed ever again."

"Your feet hurt when they get cold?"

"Don't tease me, Shikaku. I haven't agreed with you, yet."

"I'm sorry."

"And don't say that it doesn't matter if I agree with you or not."

"I wasn't going to."

"But it's true."

"You can't punish me for what _is_, Yoshino. I don't make the rules."

"No, but you use them when they support your cause. Don't you? _Say_ something."

"I love you."

"That's not going to get you out of this! Don't you think I can tell when you're dropping a subject?"

"What's for dinner? Smells good."

"Did you at least warn him?"

"It's that tuna stuff, isn't it?"

"Coward."

**O O O**

Shikamaru made it to Suna in record time. He'd packed, taken a handful of ibuprofen, and was on the road in eleven minutes, and by nightfall he was halfway to Kawa. That was unheard of, as far as he knew. But he was racing death, and death had a way of cheating. So he'd moved as quickly as possible, as the eagle flies instead of through the villages. He gone through the tops of the trees, stopping only when absolutely necessary: brief breaks for eating, and, when he knew that exhaustion was about to overtake him, for a quick nap.

Then came another two full days of running, and he walked into Suna at midnight. He was desperate to go straight to the inn, get a room, and collapse until his stomach or his bladder woke him. But he forced himself to go to Gaara first. He wasn't even positive that Tsunade had survived the two-and-a-half days it had taken him to get here, so there wasn't a moment to lose. If Gaara felt like the meeting could wait until tomorrow, that would be his call.

After stating his purpose to a surly, suspicious guard, he was forced to sit on the dusty ground and wait for nearly an hour. But it was time well-spent; he leaned back against the gate and slept until the hard sandal of the guard kicked him in the ribs. Then the man guided him into the mansion, up the winding, seemingly endless spiral staircase to Gaara's office. After checking to make sure Gaara was ready, he led Shikamaru inside.

The first thing Shikamaru noticed was that the office looked like it had been caught in a tornado. Literally. Nothing remained on any shelves, nor any flat surfaces at all, but was strewn on the floor along the walls. Mixed into the piles of books and broken knick-knacks were pieces of loose paper, as if some of the books had had their pages torn out and scattered among the debris. The floor in the center of the room, around Gaara's desk, was clear.

The second thing he noticed was Temari. She stood beside the desk, so rigidly that Shikamaru momentarily questioned whether or not she was real. Her lips were pressed together tightly, white around the edges. Her eyes were hard and cold, and blood ran down her face from some kind of head wound. She made no move to wipe it off. Her fan lay on the ground beside her, fully opened and perched on some of the damaged books, as if it had been dropped haphazardly.

Kankuro stood behind Temari, clasping her by the shoulders. He was almost as rigid as his sister. And Gaara sat behind his desk wearing his usual impassive expression. If you could call it one.

It was obviously not a normal scene, except for Gaara. But Shikamaru was so tired that his brain didn't quite register it as a startling, possibly dangerous situation, but rather as a disturbing sort of dream. The red of Temari's blood against the pale, nearly gray of her face...it was dramatic and surreal. The fan, the mess...the whole picture made Shikamaru long for home and bed, where he usually slept so well that he didn't remember dreams like this at all.

"Come in," Gaara said, his voice breaking Shikamaru out of his daze. Gaara stood, and waited as Shikamaru approached the desk, stepping over a pile of unrecognizable stuff.

"Kazekage-sama," Shikamaru said perfunctorily, bowing. Most of the time this was just "Gaara," but when he was here on a mission, he was forced to recognize Gaara's position in relation to his own. And the atmosphere in the room was so tense that Shikamaru would have been inclined toward the formal in any case. "Is everything all right?"

Silence from the three for a long, uncomfortable moment, then Gaara gestured the guard away. The door closed behind Shikamaru with a hushed click.

The lack of a response bothered him greatly.

"Sorry to come in so late," he continued, "but my father told me this mission has a strict time limit."

A derisive snort erupted from Temari. Shikamaru turned to glance at her; she looked the same, her face giving no indication that she'd even heard him. But she obviously had.

"What?" he asked.

Her jaw clenched, and she shook her head very slowly, minutely, side to side. Her eyes stayed focused straight ahead. On Gaara.

"Your father was right," Gaara said, "about the fact that we are operating on a time limit. Can I assume that he hasn't told you what your orders are?"

"He said you would cover that."

Gaara nodded. "You look exhausted," he said, and waved a hand toward his own chair. "Feel free to have a seat. We'll get you up to speed."

Shikamaru gazed at the chair longingly, but he knew sitting in it would be a mistake. If it weren't for the fact that he had all his attention on maintaining his balance so he wouldn't do a face-plant on the hardwood floor, he'd already be asleep.

"I'm fine," he said.

"I have to apologize in advance," Gaara said. "There's a lot to go over in a short amount of time, and I don't know what you're already familiar with. Essentially, Suna's alliance with Konoha is in danger. Danzo has made his dissatisfaction with the alliance well-known, and we're certain that he's going to refuse to renew Tsunade-sama's treaty after her death. I'm sure I don't need to explain how important it is to us to have Konoha as friends rather than enemies."

Shikamaru jerked his head once, in understanding. He'd assumed that his mission had something to do with securing the alliance, given the time constraints, and as he'd traveled he'd come up with several plans to present to Gaara, should his tactical advice be asked. None of them were very practical, though, and none came without the risk of loss of civilian life. He'd been hoping that Gaara would have information that would help Shikamaru think of a strategy that would be safer and more effective.

"The data I'm about to share with you is ranked as High-Priority Classified," Gaara said. "It's my duty to warn you that disclosing this information to anyone else, human or non-human, nin or civilian, knowingly or unknowingly, carries with it the penalty of death."

Shikamaru stifled a yawn. He'd heard the old disclaimer so many times that it was nothing more than a lullaby to him now. "Understood."

"There is a faction in Konoha that is strongly critical of Danzo's leadership," Gaara said. "In his two months as hokage he has already made several decisions that do not, in the opinion of the members of that group, have the best interest of the citizens of Konoha at heart."

This information was capable of surprising Shikamaru into awakeness, if only a little. Of course, he was well aware that there was a "faction" opposing Danzo, but Gaara made it sound like they were organized. He'd heard nothing to that effect.

"To be frank," Gaara said, "they are most concerned about Danzo's use of Root as something of a personal army. It's highly suspect, given the fact that he has all of the Konoha shinobi at his command."

"Right."

"This group has been reluctant to act on their concerns, obviously; no nin wants treason on their conscience, or their record. But the recent, coincidental deaths of both Utatane Koharu and Mitokado Homura have caused them to reconsider."

"Wait a minute," Shikamaru said, raising his hand. "Are you talking about a coup d'état?"

"They prefer to use the term 'reclamation.'"

Shikamaru groaned. Unbelievable. He'd been over this a million times in his head, and he'd come to the same conclusion again and again: a coup would not work. It was as simple as that. It wasn't just Danzo they had to fight against, or even Danzo and Root. It wasn't a matter of a few assassinations and a quick change of leadership. Unfortunately, Danzo had managed to gather quite a bit of support among the villagers, including that of the daimyo. He'd convinced too many people that the previous hokages had been responsible for all the problems Konoha had experienced over the last two generations, as if Danzo, in comparison, were some kind of messiah that could protect them from any and all trouble. It was stupid; it only worked because most people were painfully short-sighted when it came to politics, but Danzo had used it to his advantage like an expert manipulator.

"What idiot came up with this plan?" Shikamaru asked.

"That idiot would be your father."

He stiffened. "What?"

"When he was here last week, he explained his plan to me. He was quite confident in his ability to replace Danzo with Kakashi in a short amount of time, and with minimal bloodshed. Judging by your reaction, you weren't aware that he was the leader of the Anti-Danzo group?"

The room swirled around Shikamaru, but he blinked it back into focus. He was stunned. How long had the old man been involved in this? And he'd kept Shikamaru completely in the dark, but how? And why?

"Are you sure he wasn't drunk when he met with you?"

"Whether or not he was," Gaara said, "_I _was perfectly lucid. And I thought his plan was brilliant."

At this, Temari made another sound of frustration. Shikamaru glanced over; he could feel chakra radiating from her, the air crackling around her like electricity, and Kankuro, behind her, winced as if in pain.

"Hurt me all you want," Kankuro said to her. "I'm not letting you go until I'm sure you won't kill him."

She did not respond; it was as if she hadn't heard him. Kankuro's face contorted a little more.

"Ow..."

Shikamaru had an uncontrollable urge to inch away, which he disguised as moving closer to Gaara so that they wouldn't have to talk across the desk. He rubbed his face and tried to concentrate.

"Alright, give me the plan. I'll do my best to be open-minded."

"It centers around having Suna's direct support, and I mean militarily."

"Wait, wait, wait," Shikamaru said. He'd already found the fatal flaw, and Gaara had only said one sentence. Dad must be losing his touch. "Having the support of Suna will not endear the Anti-Danzo group to the villagers, just the opposite. Too many of them are still mistrustful...I mean, it's only been three years since you betrayed us. I don't blame you, but the villagers don't have the same perspective. That's why the alliance is so shaky in the first place."

"So much for open-mindedness," Kankuro said. "_Ow! _Temari..."

"I'm just being realistic," Shikamaru said.

"But you don't have the whole picture," Gaara said. "There are legitimate ways to create a sense of endearment in the citizens of Konoha, and that's where you come in."

"Okay..."

Gaara paused, and for a moment he actually looked human. Shikamaru could see a bit of uncertainty in his eyes, and he got the sense that Gaara was treading on unfamiliar ground.

"Until now, we've all been thinking logically. Your father has spent weeks trying to come up with a way to win the minds of the people back from Danzo. He wanted to make them see reason. But he finally realized that appealing to human logic isn't easy. Especially not in times of crisis, like Konoha is experiencing right now. The recent invasion, the impending death of the Godaime, the rebuilding, it makes them defensive. It makes them want a strong hand more than they want a compassionate heart."

For the first time in a very long time, Shikamaru was totally lost. He knew the meaning of Gaara's words, and yet he couldn't imagine how they applied to him.

"So..."

"They're acting on emotions, Shikamaru. That's where we have to influence them."

Gaara looked as if Shikamaru should be able to figure out the rest on his own, but he was still confused. "I don't..."

Suddenly, Temari's voice rang out above the others, harsh and bitter. "They're marrying us! _That's_ the point, okay? They're marrying us. Gaara, you suck at this!"

Shikamaru glanced over at Temari. Her face was no longer white, but blazing red, in a way that clashed with her blond hair. She looked like snapping was not possible, but inevitable. But what she'd said...it made no sense. A word...embedded in the sentence...for which he had no capacity for comprehension. Something entirely unrelated to military matters.

He tried out the unfamiliar word, forming its shape with his lips and tongue. "Marrying...?" A verb...that referred to the union of a woman and a man..._clearly_ not a military procedure. "Marrying who?"

"_Us_," she said, her voice breaking.

"Me and you?"

"_Yes_."

His brain struggled...lagging...trying to make sense...but he kept asking questions, hoping the answers would provide clarity. "To who?"

Temari shivered. Or, rather, she shook. Emotion barely held in check.

"To _each other_, Nara. Are you even awake?"

Frustration overwhelmed him. Frustration at his own exhaustion, and at Temari's sarcastic tone, and he responded angrily. "_No. _I've had a total of nine-" He broke off, remembering his nap at the gate. "Scratch that. _Ten_ hours sleep in the last three days. What were you expecting?"

"Too much, I guess."

Kankuro laughed at this, but Shikamaru barely heard it. He was beginning to grasp at something, now. "They want us to get married?"

Now it was Temari's turn to laugh, but where Kankuro's had been genuine, hers was acidic. "No," she said. "That insinuates that we have a choice."

"It's an order," he said.

She said nothing. Apparently she'd reached her limit.

He felt that maybe he'd reached his, too. There was no chance that he was going to fall asleep anymore, but now that his attention was on this new information, he found that his knees were wobbling a bit. So he went ahead and accepted Gaara's proffered chair. Then he leaned back, resting his head on the top of it, and stretched his legs out so that he was supporting no part of his own body. He needed all of his energy for _thinking_.

He understood now what Gaara had meant about appealing to the emotions of the citizens. A normal treaty with Suna was easily enough dismissed by those who had had no participation in the writing of it, and Danzo wasn't going to support a treaty at any rate. But marriage carried with it an air of, for lack of a better word, reality. It had a way of creating unbreakable bonds between families, and, in his and Temari's case, might create those bonds between villages. The citizens of Konoha would have a much greater reason to trust Suna, if they were willing to allow Temari to marry one of Konoha's...what? Grunts?

No, not a grunt. The son of the man who would lead the rebellion against Danzo. It would turn the Naras into something of an aristocratic class. Not that the Naras hadn't always been an influential and well-respected clan, but only for their intelligence and sound judgment, and their contributions to the field of medicine. They'd never sought power, leaving that instead to the more ambitious clans, the ones with the physical strength and motivation.

But now, Dad was using that influence, and his position on the council, to create something that Konoha could look up to. To give them somewhere other than on Danzo to focus. And all in support of his favored candidate for hokage, Kakashi. All to protect those same citizens from Danzo. And, consequently, to secure the military force of Suna to his side. No way would Suna allow Danzo, or anyone else, to threaten Temari, her husband, or even her in-laws. Add to that the fact that Gaara already supported the hero of the last battle, and Kakashi's former pupil, Naruto. Suna's loyalty would be unshakable. Konoha couldn't deny that. _Danzo_ couldn't deny that.

But it would still create division. There were those that would see Dad's maneuver as a power play. And they wouldn't be entirely incorrect. It would put Dad under fire and keep him there, at least until he'd gotten Kakashi into office. Until then, there would always be those who would assume he just wanted the position for himself. Or, perhaps, his son. As laughable as _that _was.

A marriage. A way to permanently bond Suna to Konoha that Danzo wouldn't be able to contest. A way to endear Konoha to Suna. A way to lend credibility to Kakashi's "campaign."

He sat up in the chair and looked at Temari. Neither she nor her brothers had spoken, allowing him to absorb this development in silence, at his own pace. But she was watching him with almost predatory focus, eyes narrowed into slits.

"It makes sense," he told her.

In a flash, her eyes had widened, taking her from predatory to incredulous. "_What?_"

"It does," he said, too tired to put any real conviction in his voice. "I never considered it, but it's the only thing that could possibly work." He turned to Gaara, who was as indifferent as Temari was impassioned. "The only problem I can see with the plan is that it would make more sense for her to marry Kakashi, or maybe Naruto. I suppose I'm a good third choice, but they're clearly better."

Something happened, then. Something that made the hair on the back of Shikamaru's arms stand up. Gaara got angry. It was subtle, but terrifying, and just for a second Shikamaru feared for his life.

"Neither Kakashi nor Naruto was made the offer," Gaara said. "My sister isn't for sale to the highest bidder."

"That wasn't what I was implying," he said, but he wondered why he was bothering. He couldn't see what the difference was, unless Temari had expressed an interest in him herself. It took every bit of his courage to turn his back on Gaara so he could face her.

"Does that mean you were included in the decision-making process?"

Another sharp, mirthless laugh. "I found out about this right before you did."

He was even more confused than before, but at least that explained the state of Gaara's office.

"I can't believe this," Temari said. "It's like some kind of male conspiracy. Doesn't anyone realize how wrong this is?"

"My goal was never to dictate your life, Temari," Gaara said. "But it was too important of a decision to leave entirely up to the two of you."

Shikamaru felt it again, the buzz of chakra coming from Temari. Kankuro yelped, finally letting go of her shoulders, and she strode across the room to stand toe-to-toe with Gaara.

"Don't be such an idiot," she said. "I love Suna, too. I'm loyal to her. If I really thought it was the only way, of course I would have agreed to it. But when you _order_ me to do this, it makes me want to fight against you, because it's such an injustice. Don't you understand?"

Gaara faced her squarely, arms crossed, contemplating. Finally, he nodded.

"Alright," he said.

"Alright, what?"

"I'm leaving it up to you."

She stared at him in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. It's your choice. I trust you to make the right decision."

She tossed her head toward Shikamaru. "What about him?"

She caught Shikamaru in the middle of a yawn, but he spoke through it. "I don't take my orders from Gaara. Unfortunately."

"I can't believe how nonchalant you're being about all of this," she said to him. "You haven't made a single misogynistic comment. You haven't even called it troublesome."

"Oh, it's troublesome," he admitted. "But I don't think this is really going to sink in until I wake up tomorrow. After I've had a chance to ruminate on the troublesomeness of it all. I'll make sure to insult you when we go over it again."

She blinked. "Wow. You really _are _tired."

"What?"

"This 'mission' is time-sensitive," she said, talking slowly and carefully, as if to a two-year-old. "The Hokage could die any minute. Why do you think Gaara agreed to see you at one in the morning?"

_Then_ it hit him. He had a mission _now_. It wasn't to sit around and talk about potentially marrying Temari. It was to _marry_ her.

"Tonight?" His voice cracked, but embarrassment was beyond him. "Please tell me you're joking."

Kankuro laughed again, and Temari whipped around to glare daggers at him. "I'm _sorry_," he said, waving his hands. "I've just never seen him this dumb."

"It isn't a joke," said Gaara.

"But..." Shikamaru mentally grasped for something...anything...pulling back on the reins...trying to slow down this horse before it ran headlong off a cliff. "But wouldn't engagement be good enough? For tonight?"

"As I understand Konoha law," Gaara said, "engagement may be contested by the hokage. Marriage may not. But marriage may not be entered into with a citizen of an enemy village, which is the status we will have the moment that Tsunade dies and Danzo's orders go into effect. As of the last transmission, Tsunade is still alive, but we're running out of time."

Shikamaru would have to take Gaara's word for it. He'd never, in his life, had call to study Konoha marriage laws.

He sank back in the chair again.

"So what will you do, Temari?" Gaara asked.

She sighed. "This still isn't a choice, and you know it. I can either choose to marry him, or I can choose to put myself before my village and your wishes."

Gaara nodded. "So you see, it was never a choice at all. Because you are a good citizen, and a good sister. But I thought that you needed to believe it was."

Temari bent over and picked up her fan, closing it carefully. "I still hate you for doing this to me."

Gaara said nothing.

"You're all treating me like a piece of property. Even 'It-Makes-Sense' Shikamaru over there. And why? Because I'm a woman?"

"In a way, yes," Gaara said. "Suna-"

"Oh, never _mind_. You don't have to explain it to me. Suna needs to worry about me. Konoha needs to be able to easily accept me. I get it. I'm fragile and defenseless."

"I don't know about that," Gaara said. "But you're right that Konoha will more easily accept you than they would Kankuro, for example. They will feel that you are being entrusted to them. They might view Kankuro as more of a threat, than a gift."

"A _gift_," Temari said. "You guys are pigs. Every single one of you."

"You're precious to me, Temari," Gaara said. "For me to give you to Konoha...yes, it's the greatest gift I can give."

The conversation was just background noise to Shikamaru, as stupefied as he was, but a sudden, weighty silence grabbed his attention. He focused on the siblings; both Temari and Kankuro were staring at Gaara with something like astonishment, while Gaara gazed frankly back.

A full minute passed, before Temari seemed to regain control of herself. "Fine," she said. "Just...hurry up and do it. Let's get this over with so we can go to sleep."

Gaara nodded. "Shikamaru? Are you ready?"

Oh. He was being addressed. It was happening, whatever 'it' was, and his participation was required.

Could a marriage be legal when a person was so obviously this mentally incapacitated?

"This isn't enough time to prepare."

"I know, I'm sorry," Gaara said. "I thought your father would have prepared you."

"Like you prepared me?" Temari asked.

Gaara did not respond, but addressed himself to Shikamaru. "Are you ready, then?"

"No," he said, rising from the chair and reaching back to rub his own, stiff shoulder. "What do we do?"

* * *

**A/N:** Alrighty. I'm...pretty sure I had some notes planned but I can't remember what they are. I'm almost at tired as Shikamaru. Poor, sweet, brain-dead thing.

Anyway, thanks for reading this chapter, and please review! :)


	3. Unbalanced

**Chapter Three**

**Unbalanced**

"How is she?"

"Barely hanging on. They're not sure she'll last the night."

"Do you think Shikamaru made it to Suna yet?"

"Probably. If he hurried."

"I hate it. I hate even the thought of it. Imagining him running as fast as he can, when _that's_ waiting for him."

"Now you know why I didn't say anything."

**O O O**

Shikamaru wasn't quite sure what he was expecting. The traditional clothes, the sake, none of those seemed very likely for an emergency Suna wedding at nearly two a.m. The odds were more in favor of some kind of brief ceremony, perhaps right here in Gaara's office. So he was, to some extent, mentally prepared for the wedding equivalent of a wham-bam-thank you, ma'am.

Despite that, he was still thrown for a loop. The longest part of the "ceremony" was trying to search out the necessary articles from the detritus.

"Did you do this?" Shikamaru asked Temari as they quickly dug through the piles. She wouldn't meet his gaze, but she nodded firmly.

"I stopped when there was nothing left to break."

Fortunately, it only took a couple of minutes to find what they needed: a silver plate, a small knife that also looked to be silver, and the marriage certificate. Shikamaru noticed that the latter had already been filled out with his and Temari's names. How thoughtful of them.

And it seemed like Gaara was going to perform the ceremony himself, which was logical. It was too late to try and find some other official, anyway.

He began by having Shikamaru stand face to face with Temari near the side of his desk. He placed the plate beside them on the desk and handed the knife to Temari. Then he instructed Shikamaru to hold out his hand to her.

Without warning, the silver knife flashed, cutting a gash into his thumb and making him jump.

"Ow!" he said. Blood welled up in the cut and began to run over, down the side of his hand and dripping down his arm.

"That was too deep, Temari," Gaara said. "He's going to need stitches." But no one bothered to give him anything to staunch the bleeding, so he was forced to quickly roll up his sleeve with the other hand and let the blood drip from his elbow onto the wooden floor. His thumb was throbbing.

"Into the plate," Gaara said.

"Oh." He held his thumb over the plate and let it fall there.

Gaara gave Shikamaru a few words to say. "I offer my blood, my pain, and my tears, as symbols of my loyalty, my compassion, and my love. I will serve you always."

"My tears?" Shikamaru asked.

"Did you not just hear him say it was symbolic?" Temari said.

"Oh, I just thought-"

"If you really want to cry, I can cut you again."

A feeling of dread was creeping over Shikamaru. Too fast. It was happening too fast, and Temari was miserable and vindictive and that did not bode well for their future together. That was about as deep as his worries got, with so little sleep, but they were considerable.

Shikamaru said the words, and Temari held out _her_ hand. Shikamaru was then given the tricky task of trying to figure out how to use his injured, bloody hand to wield the knife. He finally just gave up and went at it left-handed.

"This isn't symbolic for eternal suffering or anything, is it?" he asked. It came like a joke, but he was deadly serious.

"No," said Kankuro, laughing. "It's symbolic for fertility. You're saying you'd prefer to have a lot of children over having a lot of money."

Great. Shikamaru considered switching the knife back at the last minute, but decided against it. He didn't think the hand that he used actually had any bearing on his future, but he was strongly conscious of Temari's impression of this whole affair. And he couldn't help but notice that steely glint in her eyes when Kankuro had said "children."

Did he want her to think that he was anxious to take part in the reproductive process? Or did he want her think he was wary of it? He couldn't win, so he stuck with the hand that hurt the least.

He quickly drew the knife across Temari's thumb, trying to just barely nick her. A couple of drops of blood appeared on the surface of her skin, and she held her thumb over the plate, squeezing to make them drop. They splashed into Shikamaru's blood, swallowed up by it.

She was silent for a moment, her face set. The moment became two, and Gaara cleared his throat encouragingly.

"I got it, Gaara, alright?" Temari said. "Just give me onesecond. _Please_."

Her tone was disheartening. Shikamaru was having a difficult time sorting out his own feelings about everything, but he could tell by the way she spoke that she wasn't. She hated this.

Finally, she took a deep breath, exhaled loudly, and looked up into Shikamaru's eyes. He could see...resignation.

And a glint of wetness on her lashes.

"I offer my blood, my pain, and my tears, as symbols of my loyalty, my compassion, and my love. I will serve you always."

She showed him how they both dipped the balls of their injured thumbs into the blood on the plate, then pressed them onto the marriage certificate, each under his own name.

"My thumb print, your thumb print, our DNA," she explained, wiping the tears away with the back of her clean hand. "So there can't be any question about what happened here today."

He pressed his thumb down, then pulled it back. Temari's was so much smaller than his. Cleaner.

Temari lifted her thumb to her mouth and licked off some of the blood. Shikamaru hesitated, not because it disgusted him but because it reminded him too much of Hidan...and of Asuma. But he finally reached up and pressed his thumb to his tongue. It wasn't really gross at all. It was mostly his blood, anyway, and it just tasted like he'd bitten his tongue.

"Now what?" he asked.

"That's it," Temari said with a sigh. "We're married."

"What? That's it?"

"Yep."

"But Gaara didn't even do anything!"

"What's he supposed to do? He's not the one getting married."

"But..." His mind was reeling. He was already married. To Temari. "But, in Konoha-"

"Gaara's only here for two reasons," she said. "To be the official witness, and to make sure neither of us is being coerced into the ceremony against our wills." She turned her gaze on Gaara, cold and accusatory. "Right?"

Gaara nodded. "That's the tradition. And, in this case, I'll chakra-stamp the document so that it can be dated backward, should Danzo choose to contest the marriage."

Married. He was married. No dating, no courtship, just this sudden, seemingly random conjunction of his life with Temari's. No warning, no time to accept it, no reason that it should be him over a half dozen other men in Konoha.

Married.

"So, that's it," Temari repeated. "Give me a minute to pack some stuff, and I'll be ready to go."

"Go where?" he asked.

"With _you_," she said, and he could almost hear the "idiot" tacked onto the end. "I'm your wife now, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," he said. How could he forget? "But still, go where? I'm staying at the inn. It'll only be set up for one guest."

"Doesn't matter," she said. "I'm going. I'll bring my futon."

"But..."

But it was too late. Temari was out the door, heading for wherever. And Shikamaru was left wondering what the rush was. She was right; they _were_ married. Assuming that Tsunade was still alive they had succeeded in forming an official and largely indisputable bond between the villages. They'd done it. So there was no reason for Temari to force herself to spend the night with Shikamaru, unless...

"Don't tell me," he heard himself say, to the room in general. "This isn't like a...I mean, we don't have to..." But he couldn't finish. Surely the ceremony, the legal document, surely those would be enough.

"No," Kankuro said, "and don't put thoughts like that into my head. As far as I'm concerned, the two of you will _never _do that. Ever."

He was relieved. So it was just Temari being a woman, then. Impossible to understand.

He slumped back into the chair and put his head down on Gaara's desk. It was too much to take in. The marathon to Suna, the marriage, it was more than his sleep-deprived brain could handle, and it had given in. His eyelids lost their battle to stay open, and in moments he was asleep.

**O O O**

"How much of this do you think he'll retain?"

"Hard to say. I'm not sure he was awake for all of it. Is it possible to sleep standing up?"

"I've done it."

"I'm talking about without a bijuu to animate you in the meantime."

"I know. It was a joke."

"Oh. Yeah, now that you've explained it to me, I get it."

**O O O**

Temari could have taken her sweet time getting her clothes together. But she didn't. She could have stayed home tonight and made Nara go back to the inn. But she wasn't going to. She could have stayed home, but demand that Nara stay here with her. But then he would have had to go all the way back to get his stuff. He was tired enough already.

Temari could have done a lot of things. She _wanted_ to do a lot of things. Almost anything besides what she'd done. What she was going to do. Comply. Cooperate. _Submit._

She mouthed the words silently, over and over, while she washed her face, doctored the wound she'd gotten when she'd managed to send a small, pewter statue into her own head, then hustled around, packing. Comply. Cooperate. Submit. They were soft words, really. Easy words. But each one felt jagged and painful in her mouth. After a while, she switched to another set of words, but these were even worse.

Loyalty. Compassion. Love. And, last but not least, serve.

The words of her vow.

She'd said them to Nara, with her brothers as witnesses. And she'd meant them. At least, she'd _meant_ to mean them, which was pretty similar. She intended to do her best to honor the vow, even though she didn't want to. And she wasn't going to do it for Suna. She'd _married_ him for Suna. She'd complied and cooperated with Gaara's wishes, submitted to his orders, for Suna. But now she was going to be loyal, compassionate, and loving for herself. Because she couldn't stand to be the kind of person who would lie. And that was all there was to it.

Temari had heard dozens of people say the wedding vows in her life. As the daughter, and now the sister, of the Kazekage, she'd been in attendance at more weddings than she could count. And it never failed. No matter how enamored the couples were with each other, and despite the fact that the vows were terribly serious ones, they always gave them in a way that seemed, to Temari, to be thoughtless. Mechanical. As if the vows were an obstacle that needed to be jumped over in order for the two lovers to be together.

Temari had promised herself that she'd never take them so lightly, if she ever got married. She didn't really expect to have to fulfill her promise to herself; she'd always felt like the kind of woman that didn't need to be married to be happy. She was already happy. Complete within herself. And too stubborn to get along well with a man for long, anyway.

But her time had come, whether or not she'd been ready. And she'd said the vows. And now she was going to honor them, if she possibly could. She refused to be a liar.

Loyalty, compassion, and love.

Servitude.

She hated him. She couldn't help it. She hated them both. Gaara, for using her as a political tool, and for being so good at manipulating her into _compliance_. It was something he had in common with Father: the ability to phrase things in such a way as to give you the impression that you would have come up with the plan on your own, if only you'd been that smart. Or that selfless.

And Nara. She hated him for reasons that were less clear to her. Maybe it was because, no matter _what _Gaara said, he was the wrong man for her in almost every way. Or maybe because of how cavalier he'd been about the whole marriage. Disinterested. That was the thing that annoyed her the most: the way he tended to lie back and let life happen to him. She didn't have the desire to motivate him, nor the patience to wait for him. She'd end up doing everything herself, rather than have the argument. And she'd end up resenting him for that.

But she was going to do everything in her power to keep her vows. Even if some were more difficult to keep than others.

She only packed enough for one night; there was no reason for them to stay longer than that at the inn. Tomorrow night she'd bring him back here, to her home.

After that...she had no clue.

She put on her pack and headed back to Gaara's office. When she walked in, Gaara and Kankuro were gone. And Nara was asleep at Gaara's desk.

Annoyance and pity wrestled within her, vying for dominance. He was tired; she knew that. But, still, to be able to sleep so easily on a day like today...it made her jealous.

She walked over to where he lay and poked him in the shoulder.

"Hey, Nara," she said, not too gently. "Wake up."

He was instantly awake and sitting upright, she had to give him that. But only long enough for him to discern that she was not a threat. Within seconds he was rubbing his face and yawning, his eyes half-open.

"Let's go," she said. Without waiting for him, she started for the door.

There were no footsteps behind her until she'd reached it. Then she heard him get up, the chair creaking, to follow.

Their short journey to the inn was silent. When they reached it, they saw that Nara's bed had been laid out for him, and he wasted no time crawling into it. He didn't even bother brushing his teeth or changing; he just dropped his pack, sloughed off his sandals, vest, and weapons, and then crashed. Once again, Temari was filled with that odd mixture of frustration and envy. For her part, she had no expectations of a sound sleep.

She took a little longer getting ready. She spent several minutes debating about where to lay out _her_ futon, and in the mean time she went through her before bed routine. She finally decided that it didn't matter; it's not like he was going to wake up anytime soon to take note of it. So she swallowed her pride and put her bed right next to his. He was her husband, after all. It was where she belonged.

But as she lay in bed, trying in vain to block out the sound of his snoring, she raged at herself for being so docile. Like a cow. This wasn't where she belonged at all. She belonged in her own bed, and this useless excuse for a man should be no where near it. In fact, he should be imprisoned for even trying it.

She rolled over and stared at him, watching him sleep in the faint moonlight. Hear that? You're _useless_ to me. I don't need a husband, especially one that doesn't value me. I would have been better off with a dog. And you have no right to be sleeping this close to me. You're the luckiest sap alive, and you don't even care.

His only answer was a long, low snore.

She wanted to hit him. She wanted to take her pillow and hold it over his head until he stopped snoring, stopped squirming, stopped...breathing.

She sighed, rolling onto her back. No she didn't. She was _loyal_ to him. You don't murder the man you've sworn to be loyal to. And her _compassion_ said that death at the hands of your wife would be hurtful and cruel.

So she didn't kill him.

**O O O**

"Hey."

"Hi."

"I didn't expect you to be awake."

"...neither did I."

"But it's good that you are. I need to talk to you."

"Are you going to try and convince me to die? Everyone else has."

"Nah. I just came to tell you that he made it. He married the Suna girl."

"Poor kid."

"Which one?"

"Both."

"I'm sorry. I know you hated the idea. I did too. But...it was necessary. Everything's in motion now, and we're building something even stronger than we had before. So it's a good thing."

"It was...hard."

"What was?"

"Letting people need me again. Even harder when you realize that they don't. Anymore."

"You're talking a lot."

"Don't nag me about saving my breath. I'm so tired of hearing that."

"I had no intention of it. I want to hear you talk."

"Are you holding something?"

"Oh...yeah. It's sake."

"Hold it up so I can see it. It's that swill in the plastic bottle, isn't it?"

"I was hoping you'd recognize it."

"I guess I do remember it, now. You were always so broke back then."

"I don't know what you're talking about. And I'm still always broke. Think you could approve a raise for me?"

"I'll do it tomorrow."

"That's cheating."

"Hurry up and pour the sake, Nara. I've been dry for two months."

"Listen...I don't want you to worry about the village. I'll do everything in my power to take care of them for you. Even if it means giving up my Sundays. Even if it means being visible."

"Are you _crying_?"

"No way. I'm just laughing at the look Jiraiya-sama will have on his face when you tear him a new one for running off and fighting Pein on his own."

"Sure you are."

"Let me help you up so you can drink with me."

"What, no straw?"

"I knew I forgot something."

"You have no idea. No idea how badly I wish I could get out of this bed and kill Danzo myself."

"How's the sake?"

"Terrible."

"Danzo's days are numbered. And, as heartless as he's been, he taught us a lot about how not to run the village. Konoha's government is still very young; there are so many things we never considered until now, about how to make the government better and more effective. So I have to thank him for that, if nothing else."

"They're _dead_, Shikaku."

"I know."

"But, if you can stop him from killing anyone else, I guess that's all I can ask."

"Does that mean you're ready to...lay back down, now?"

"Yes. I think I'm ready."

"I want you to know that it's been a pleasure serving under you."

"Here we go. You're saying good-bye."

"I was going to have to eventually."

"Well, I refuse to say it. I haven't been able to say good-bye to a single person I've lost, so why should I break the tradition?"

"I'll stay with you as long as it takes."

"It won't be long. I can't seem to care about Danzo anymore."

"That's good. That's how it should be. Let the rest of us worry about him now."

"Okay. I think I can do that."

"So..."

"Hm?"

"If I'm not allowed to say good-bye, what can I say?"

"You can say, '_o-tsukaresama deshita_.'"

"Alright."

"And...I think now would be a good time to say it."

"O-tsukaresama deshita, Tsunade."

"...o-tsukare, Shikaku-kun."

**O O O**

Shikamaru drifted in and out of consciousness, skirting the fringe of lucidity. Now and then his eyelids would lift enough to let the barest hint of light in, but he was too warm, too comfortable to convince himself to make the irrevocable jump, leaving delicious sleep behind.

Eventually he moved a little on his futon, rolling from his side onto his back for a cooler place on the sheets. It required uncurling his legs and, just for a second, caused the muscles in his chest and shoulder to lengthen and pull. A let out an appreciative breath of air. Now that he'd begun the process, he felt his liquid, largely unresponsive limbs twisting and reaching away from his body, stretching, making him yawn loudly and blink his eyes.

His head felt funny; like something was crammed awkwardly underneath it, and he reached up with his right hand to investigate. He realized he'd fallen asleep without even untying his hair, and he wrapped dull fingers around the string, trying to convince them to contract enough so that he could grip it and twist it free. He was finally able to pull it loose, but the string slipped roughly against his thumb in the process, sending a stab of pain all the way to his elbow.

Suddenly, memory flooded back, so quickly, so sharply that he bolted upright in bed, fully awake. The destruction in Gaara's office. Pale, angry, wildly dangerous Temari. A slice on the thumb and the taste of his own blood. A wedding. A wife.

His eyes darted around the room, searching for her; he vaguely remembered that she'd followed him to the inn, but now there was no sign that she'd ever been here. No futon. No luggage. And that didn't make any sense. Why would she insist on coming with him but cut out before he'd even woken up?

A cold feeling began in his guts, spreading through his torso and chest and extremities and turning everything to ice. Married. How could something like this possibly have happened to him? He wasn't ready. He was only sixteen...he wasn't a jounin, yet...he still made less money than a waiter...he lived with his _parents_, for crying out loud, in the little house that they shared with the Akamichis and Yamanakas while the village was being rebuilt. _Chouji_ slept in Shikamaru's room. How was he supposed to bring a wife into a situation like that? Post-war...reconstruction...unstable government...these were times when it was much better to be a kid. Not a grown man with a wife. Especially one who would undoubtedly balk at any attempts he made in the way of husbandry.

Everything had seemed so dream-like last night. He remembered Dad's plan, and thinking it was the best way. But he'd somehow failed to connect it to his own life. He'd forgotten to consider how the plan was going to affect _him_, years after the war was over, after Kakashi was dead and yet another hokage had been chosen. Time would pass, the village would grown and change, Danzo would be long forgotten...

...and there would still be Temari.

Every day.

For the rest of his life.

That is, unless she died first. But that wasn't likely. Temari was too ornery to die.

His thumb continued to ache, and he stared at it, at the cut that split the ball right in two. Gaara had been right. It _had_ needed stitches, or the attention of a med-nin. But now it was too late. It was already healing in two places, blood smeared across his hand and down his arm, dried and cracked on his skin. Pulling back his blanket, he noticed that there was also blood on the bottom sheet. From what he could see it had probably soaked through as well.

Minutes dragged by while he sat there stiffly, unable to make himself move. His brain had retreated, refusing to attempt to navigate this uncharted terrain. And he recognized the feeling. The ice, the rigidity of the muscles, the almost overwhelming desire to lay back down and pretend to be comatose until no one expected anything of him anymore.

He was terrified.

Was it possible that, in this world, there existed a woman that would be more difficult to get along with then Temari? It wasn't that he didn't like her; he didn't really know how he felt about her. There was no feeling so positive or so negative that it controlled his opinion. Nearly all of their brief encounters had dissolved into squabbling, which was negative. But he'd discovered that her arguments had a way of staying inside his skull, bouncing around until he was forced to acknowledge them, usually long after she was gone. And more often than not, the result of the assimilation would be a fresh perspective, new insight; in short, a wiser Shikamaru. Which could be viewed as positive, if it weren't for the fact that she always seemed to _know_, and there would be something in her air the next time she came around, a hint of arrogance or condescension that made him long for his old ignorance instead.

She was self-assured, which was good. She was egotistical, which was not.

She was intelligent: good. Patronizing: bad.

Honest: good. Blunt: bad.

Confident: good...maybe. Scary: terrible.

No, he didn't like her. How could he? She'd never given him anything to like. She never acknowledged his strengths unless she was giving him a backhanded compliment. She insulted him every chance she got. She bossed him around, then made it clear that his efforts had been nowhere good enough. _He_ wasn't good enough. She didn't respect him.

And as he sat there, still frozen, he realized that this was the worst part of all. He realized that, no matter how annoying or loud or hateful Temari could be, her respect was valuable. Possibly because she held it for so few people. Or possibly because she, as a jounin and an ally, was so respectable. _He_ respected her. He honored her for her skills. He trusted her with his life.

And she thought he was weak.

It made him feel like a child. Like a toddler that Temari would have to pick up and carry in her arms when she traveled, to make sure he didn't fall in a hole or wander across a spiny plant or a dangerous wild animal and get himself hurt. Like she was the protector. The husband.

Which would make him the...

He shuddered, but his muscles had been so tight that it came out as more of a jerk. This was wrong. No deity in his right mind could have paired him with Temari. He needed a woman that would look up to him, that would listen, someone to whom he wouldn't constantly feel he had something to prove. And Temari needed someone with even tougher skin than she had. Shikamaru had been accused of having a hard head, but never tough skin.

Maybe if he could accomplish something amazing, she'd look up to him. But it was impossible. Temari's respect was as far away and as difficult to grasp as a cloud, and he had about as much motivation to try and grasp it as he did to build himself a pair of wings and learn to fly. Much easier to admire it from afar, as something attractive, but, ultimately, unattainable. Much easier to get a handle on the fact that she'd disdain him forever _now_, so that he wouldn't spend the rest of his life scrabbling for something that, as far as he was concerned, didn't exist. Much easier to just...accept it.

If you aim at nothing, you're sure to hit it. But he'd hit nothing anyway, so why bother aiming at all?

Coming to this conclusion, he felt a little better. He was no more optimistic about his future, but he'd chosen his path, which had at least relieved him from the paralysis of indecision. He could stop staring at his thumb, now; he could move his arms and legs and get his feet under him and stand, yawning once more and popping his back.

He needed a shower. A nice, cool one that would finish the job of waking him up and prepare him to face his life-long companion. Wherever she'd gone. Probably back home, to pace around and rant and rave about what was taking Shikamaru so long, why wasn't he there yet. Or, more likely, back home to not contemplate his existence at all.

Bleh. Wrong train of thought. Better to think about which restaurant he'd stop at on the way to the mansion. He was starving, and there was a little takoyaki stand around the corner. That sounded good.

He pulled some clean clothes out of his pack, then stripped down to his underwear and stuffed the dirty things in on top of everything else. Then he righted himself, tucking his clothes under one arm so he could use his hands to hold his hair brush, his deodorant, his toothbrush and toothpaste. And that's when he heard it. The sound of a key sliding into the doorknob, the knob turning, the door creaking open.

Without giving it a second thought, he dropped everything he was holding, toiletries clattering on the floor, and formed the seals, sending his shadow under the door. He felt it connect, and the door stopped in its tracks. He didn't suspect an immediate threat; there was only one person it was likely to be. He just didn't want to be seen in his underwear.

"Temari?"

Her irritated voice came from behind the door. "Does this mean you don't want lunch?"

"How did you get a key?"

"I got it from you. Are you going to let me in or not?"

His eyes dropped to his scattered belongings. He needed to grab them, but he couldn't bend over because Temari would do the same and end up pushing the door open. With her face. In fact, there was no action that wouldn't give him away to Temari, once she started mimicking him.

"I'll let you in," he said, "but give me a second."

"What are you, naked?"

He couldn't stop himself from tilting his head down to look at his underwear, and Temari chuckled, low and mocking.

"Not exactly," he said.

"Don't worry. I have no interest in seeing your tighty-whities."

He thought about informing her that they were gray jockeys, but reminded himself that it was pointless; Temari's respect was out of reach. But he could feel something sink inside of him: the last of his hope.

He didn't take long getting cleaned up and dressed, aware that food in some form awaited him in the main room. When he stepped out of the bathroom, Temari was pulling two konbini bento out of a plastic bag. She didn't look up as he entered.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Almost three."

Oh. No wonder he felt so well-rested. Twelve hours of sleep will do that to a guy.

She gestured to the floor, pushing a bento and a can of coffee toward him. He sat down cross-legged and cracked the plastic top off the bento.

"Thanks," he said.

"Uh huh."

He ate the entire thing before he spoke again, not that that left a terribly long silence. He was just really hungry. It wasn't takoyaki, but it might as well have been gourmet dining; he finished it off in only a couple of minutes.

"You got the key from me," he said once he was done. "But the key was in my pants pocket when I fell asleep."

She glanced up. "And shortly thereafter, it was in my hand. What's your point?"

"Did you search me in my sleep?"

"Not really," she said. "I saw where you put it."

"Huh." He didn't know what else to say to that. He felt kind of violated.

"Was I supposed to stay in here all day, watching you sleep, just because you took the key to bed with you?"

_Pointless. Out of reach._

"No."

"I had to eat breakfast, making sure to spread the joyous news of our union to the innkeeper and all the patrons, and take my stuff back home and find out what Gaara wants us to do next. This whole thing was so spur-of-the-moment, I don't think anyone has any idea what's going on."

Her voice was bitter, and she ate each bite of food as if she were attacking it. She didn't seem any happier than she had last night.

"So, what did Gaara say?"

"You're not going to believe this," she said.

"What?"

She gave an acrimonious laugh, as if demonstrating her own disbelief. "He's given us another mission."

"What now? Produce a male heir?"

"No," she said. "Thankfully no. As if I'd let him talk me into bringing _children_ into this whole sorry affair. He's literally sending us on a mission. A really lame, low-ranked one. I think the point is just to get us out of the country so that Danzo can't kill us when he...you know. Finds out."

She put her chopsticks down and looked at him seriously. "By the way, I thought you should know. Tsunade passed away this morning."

He was ashamed that his first feeling was relief. Relief that they'd beaten the deadline, and that the last three days of torture hadn't been for nothing. Relief that Tsunade was no longer suffering. Then relief became a sort of...settling. Acceptance. The marriage was valid. There'd always been a chance that they would discover that they were off the hook, had she died before the certificate was stamped. But now that chance was gone.

But then the full weight of Tsunade's death hit him, and tears sprang to his eyes. He didn't know if it was true that a person's whole life passed before them when they thought they were about to die, but he knew that _his_ life since meeting Tsunade was certainly passing by, like pages of an old photo album, flipping quickly as to just give him tiny glimpses of his own memories. He remembered becoming a chuunin, and how she'd smiled at him proudly when she'd conferred the rank onto him. He hadn't been ready, not really, and she'd undoubtedly known that. But she'd still been proud of him. He thought of all the responsibility she'd given him over the years, and how he'd managed to disappoint her on so many of the most important ones. But it had never stopped her from trusting him.

But she had been a gambler, after all. She'd gambled on him, even when the odds had been horrible.

Memories of her yelling at him and lecturing him kept coming back, but that wasn't the odd thing. The odd thing was the way that they evoked feelings of fondness in him, as if the experiences had been enjoyable at the time. It was unfathomable.

Temari stood up and cleared away the bento packages without looking at him. She was probably disgusted with him for crying over Tsunade.

_Pointless. Out of reach._

But he didn't much care. If the life of your fallen leader wasn't worth a few tears, then what was?

"Anyway," Temari said, raising her voice to be heard clearly from across the room, "Gaara is ordering us to deliver a package to someone in Kawa. Like I said, it's lame, but it keeps us moving and keeps Danzo from knowing where we are."

No he's not. Sending them to Kawa, when keeping an eye on the two of them and keeping them alive was the highest priority, would be boneheaded. So boneheaded that it had to be a lie. Temari obviously knew that, which was why she was talking loud enough to be heard by the entire inn.

"Okay," he said.

"We'll stay at the mansion tonight, then leave in the morning. I've already checked you out of the inn. All that's left is to gather your things and get out."

That wasn't quite all; before they could leave, Shikamaru had to hunt down the innkeeper and pay her for the bedding he'd ruined by bleeding all over it. She'd accepted the money with a wink and a knowing nod, and had left Shikamaru blushing furiously. He couldn't even explain that she was wrong in her assumptions without embarrassing himself further or rousing suspicion.

He trudged over to Temari, who was watching him with a smirk on her face.

"Have a good chat?"

_Pointless. Out of reach._

"I guess."

* * *

**A/N:** Introspection for the win, y'all. I think at least half of this chapter occurred inside someone's head. And I would have had it up yesterday, except it's dang tornado season, and the power grid out here sucks, and every time the wind blows it knocks out the power at the broadband tower and I get nothing. Boo.

The untagged dialogue...*laugh* I want to marry it and have its children.

And re: "Pointless. Out of reach." Ever since my husband first read this chapter, a long time ago, he's adopted that phrase and uses it on me when I'm being insubordinate or making fun of him. *giggle*

So...a little bit of Japanese in this chapter. I try not to throw it around willy-nilly, because it doesn't enhance the reading experience for the casual fan. But, occasionally, you have to use the Japanese because there's no exact English equivalent. But here's a quick lexicon for the words I used:

1. o-tsukaresama deshita, and its various forms: this is actually a phrase that is used between coworkers or classmates when parting for the day. Pretty formal; not something you'd really use on a close friend, but I can see Tsunade going there, avoiding the use of the more emotional and permanent "sayonara" or whatever. But it kind of means, "thank you for your hard work" or "you/we did a good job today." More literally, "you got tired."

konbini bento: lunches in plastic containers that can be purchased at convenience stores. Konbini is wasei eigo, or japlish, for "convenience store." But konbini are very different from Western convenience stores. Way more awesome.

Please review!


	4. Uninformed

**Chapter Four**

**Uninformed**

"Gaara. What am I supposed to do with two hundred and forty pounds of coffee?"

"Stay awake for a few years?"

"Hey, you're getting better. I knew that was a joke."

"It was?"

**O O O**

Temari showed Shikamaru to her room, as disinterestedly as if she was showing him where they kept the glasses in the kitchen. But she wrested his pack from him in threw it onto the bed. It was a statement; she was moving him in whether he liked it or not. He just didn't know why.

"This really isn't necessary," he said. "I'm perfectly fine sleeping in a spare room."

"Get over it," she said, crossing her arms. "We're not going to argue about this."

Man, she was so _confusing_. She was clearly miserable about being forced to marry him, and he was more than willing to give her her space for as long as she needed. The certificate had been thumb printed. Nothing more was required of them. So why was she torturing herself?

More importantly, why was she torturing _him_?

"So, what's the plan?" he asked. "Kawa's obviously a feint, but I can't imagine that anyone would be stupid enough to fall for it."

"There's always _someone_," she said. She was walking around the walls of her room, throwing open the curtains on each window and letting the afternoon light stream in. "Gaara's sending a couple of jounin in disguise in our place. At least it'll be misleading."

"And where will we be?"

"En route to Konoha. Your father went public with the wedding announcement the moment Tsunade died. Apparently he even spoke to Danzo about it in person; asked for his blessing in welcoming the new Konoha citizen, blah blah blah. He just left out one tiny piece of information."

That was easy enough to guess. "He didn't say I was married to _you_."

"Exactly. So public interest has been raised, and everyone will be curious about your Suna wife. But hopefully Danzo won't see it as purely political until it's too late."

And, knowing Dad, it was already too late.

"Kankuro's coming with us, and we're going under the cover of three coffee merchants, just because three is less conspicuous than two, where we're concerned. But the disguises, the Kawa decoys, these are all just Gaara's way of being extra cautious. The hope is that no one will be coming after us, yet, because no one realizes how important we are. And when we get to Konoha, we're going to enter the gates the old-fashioned way. No pretenses between us and the citizens."

"Right."

"We leave tomorrow morning. In the meantime, Gaara wants us to stay on my floor." She pointed out one of the windows. "He has twelve guards watching us right now."

"Wow."

She nodded. "Told you. Cautious. And now you know what I know."

After that, there wasn't much to do except mill around the room, or flip through Temari's books, or eat dinner when it was served, or..._chat_. And some time around eight o'clock, Temari disappeared into the bathroom to get ready for bed. It was much too early, when he imagined trying to sleep in that bed with her, and yet he was pretty confident that she felt the same way he did: that any more time spent making mindless conversation would drive him insane.

Even though the plans were already made and there was nothing left to prepare for, he sat down on the floor and unrolled a large map of the five great shinobi countries. It gave him something to focus on, and to crinkle loudly in order to drown out the soft, splashing noises that Temari was making in the bath. Something to roll up casually when she emerged, in a tank top and shorts, hair damp and wavy, small droplets of water on her shoulders, to demonstrate that he'd been quite busy while she'd been gone, had had plenty on his mind.

It was weird and incredibly uncomfortable, seeing Temari in her pajamas. He knew that this was the kind of outfit that only her family would ever see, and he felt a little guilty for being included into that group so easily. He _shouldn't_ feel guilty, but he did anyway. And he couldn't help but take note of the fact that Temari's pajamas presented quite a different view of her than her normal clothes, the details of which troubled him to think about. So he didn't.

After his own turn in the bathroom, he came out to find her sitting on the edge of her bed, reading a book. She dog-eared the page and placed it on a nightstand, then glanced up.

"Listen, Nara, there's something I want to say to you."

"Okay."

"The fact is, I was kind of a b- -I mean, I wasn't very nice to you last night. Or this afternoon. Am I right?"

"I..." At first, Shikamaru categorized this as one of those questions that women ask that you shouldn't answer. But after thinking about it some more, he decided it was actually one of those questions that you _should_ answer, but with a lie. "You weren't that bad."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. Then she stood up, crossing the distance between them in a few strides, and took hold of his hand. She twisted it into an awkward, painful angle, and it took him a second to realize that she wasn't trying to break his wrist; she was showing him his own, cut-open thumb.

"I was at least _this_ bad," she said.

He allowed himself a conceding nod.

She turned his hand back around to look at the thumb herself, a frown in her eyes, before dropping it. "Anyway," she said. "I shouldn't have done that. None of this is really your fault."

She headed back to the bed and sank onto it, kicking off her slippers, and he knew that the apology was over. If, indeed, that's what it was.

"So, let's sleep," she said.

He watched her line her slippers up neatly against the edge of the bed, then pull back the covers and slide between the sheets. And just for a moment he was dumbstruck at how _strange_ this was, at how yesterday, as he was busy breaking speed records between Konoha and here, he would have been incapable of imagining that he might be spending the night with a female only twenty-four hours later. With Temari, of all females. And she didn't need titles like "sister of the Kazekage" in order to intimidate him. She simply _did_. She was intimidating, in and of herself, because of her strength, and her straightforwardness, and the fact that she might get bored and kill him while he slept.

She rolled her eyes, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. "Oh, come on. I'm not going to bite you."

He made his feet move, to walk around the bed to the other side so he could sit down. It wasn't biting he was afraid of. He just wasn't sure how far Temari might convince herself to go, in pursuit of normalcy, or whatever was compelling her to make him sleep in here with her. He didn't think she had any interest in him whatsoever, and the thought of her coming on to him in spite of that made him fairly nervous. And nauseous.

He was still sitting up when she reached over and flipped off the only lamp, shrouding them both in darkness.

"Lay down," she said. There was definitely nothing seductive in that. It was an order, born of annoyance. And, oddly, it calmed him a little. He felt like he was back in familiar territory.

He did as he was told, getting as comfortable as possible with pajama-clad Temari so close by, making sure no part of his body crossed out of his space into the neutral zone in the middle. The easiest way to accomplish this was to scoot to the far edge of the bed and roll over, facing away, so that's what he did.

"Wow," she said. "So much room." He heard her arm slip through the sheets, and he could feel that her fingers were almost near enough to touch his back, but not quite. "It's like you're not even here."

He discovered that it was possible to get even closer to the edge of the bed without falling off.

She laughed. "You know, you'll probably sleep better if you relax."

He forced himself to roll onto his back, to take deep breaths and try and uncurl his fingers and toes. "Just promise me you won't suffocate me in my sleep."

"Nah. I've decided against it."

He chose to take that as a joke.

**O O O**

Rest came in fitful bursts, where Shikamaru's body seemed aware, even if his mind didn't, that he was always centimeters away from accidentally touching Temari. Now and then he'd jerk awake because his foot had brushed across a place on the sheets that was a few degrees warmer, and he would be suddenly conscious of her position in relation to his own, and the fact that she'd had a toe or something in _his_ half of the bed only moments before.

Even when Temari was firmly planted on her side, his sleep was still punctuated by vivid, troublesome dreams, brief flashes of images that made no sense, and that he could barely connect to real life, but that nonetheless made him jumpy and uncomfortable throughout the night.

So when "morning" came, so called because the alarm had gone off, and _not_ because the sun was up yet, it was almost a relief. He was tired and jittery, but at least he could get up, get dressed, and take comfort in the fact that it would be a few days before he had to do some version of this again. During the trip, at least, they would be in sleeping bags.

After a quick breakfast they met up with Kankuro. Using henge, the three of them assumed the personas of coffee merchants, picked up their wares at a local distribution center, and were out of the gate by five.

Coffee was an excellent choice. Lightweight for its volume, but still non-perishable, and it was one of the few non-essentials that Konoha was importing during this turbulent time, a considerable percentage of the younger, economically active population preferring it to tea. Shikamaru wasn't surprised to see that Temari could carry an equal share with the men, she and Kankuro were both used to lugging heavy burdens when they traveled. If anyone was going to have a difficult time keeping up, it would be Shikamaru.

Of course, carrying coffee meant that Temari and Kankuro had been forced to leave their weapons behind, but they would have to have done that anyway, since Temari's fan and Kankuro's puppets made them both so recognizable. Temari's fan would be returning to her via the Suna army, which was due outside the Konoha border at Dad's behest, the exact time still to be determined. In the interim, Temari was able to keep two, smaller fans concealed within her clothing, and one of Kankuro's bags of coffee actually contained a prototype of a puppet that was an eighth of the size of the ones he normally used. Their compact weapons weren't as deadly as the usuals, but if everything went according to plan they wouldn't need them anyway.

They traveled quickly, far enough away from the main road that they avoided the traffic, but not so far away that they couldn't justify their positions as necessary for cooking and resting, should someone notice and become suspicious. They spoke loudly, laughed heartily, and, in the cases of Kankuro and Temari, told enough bawdy jokes that no one would mistake them as anything other than three businessmen that were used to being out of earshot of wives and children.

At night they slept in one large tent, and in the mornings they woke up stiff and aching from covering so many miles the previous day under the weight of the coffee. Shouldering their packs again was always a time for a healthy round of complaining, shared equally by the three. And on the evening of the third day they arrived outside of Konoha, dirty, fatigued, and desperate to be rid of the coffee. Forever.

There was nothing they could do but leave the stashing of the coffee to Kankuro, and then bid him good-bye. It was unfortunate, but citizenship-by-marriage only extended to Temari, and Kankuro was already breaking the law, just by accompanying them this far.

Then Shikamaru and Temari released their henges, and emerged on the path as themselves, just out of eyesight of the gate. It was so tempting for Shikamaru to have Temari enter the village with a face and name other than her own, because he knew that the moment she checked in as herself, the gossip would spread, the information cogs would turn, and there would be no turning back. Danzo couldn't possibly interpret this as anything other than a political maneuver against him.

But he had Dad's orders, and he understood the wisdom behind them. There must always be openness and honesty between themselves and the people of Konoha. The citizens must never have call to view any action on the part of the Naras as underhanded or deceitful. They were to be looked up to, not mistrusted.

Shikamaru recognized the pair at the gate immediately: Izumo and Kotetsu, still in the black of mourning. The funeral must have been today. Seeing them there was a relief; they knew each other well, so he and Temari probably wouldn't be detained, or bothered with suspicious interrogation.

"Hey, Shikamaru!" called Izumo, as soon as they'd stepped through the gate. "You're back!"

"I'm back," he said.

Kotetsu had a clipboard out. He was probably already writing Shikamaru's name in the record, so he prepared himself for the routine questions.

"How long were you gone?" Kotetsu asked.

"Seven days."

"What was your destination?"

"Suna."

At this, Kotetsu and Izumo both cracked matching grins. Those guys were going to have to stop hanging out together so much. They were starting to act like the same person.

"And your purpose in Suna?"

This was a standard question, but the way Izumo was leaning forward on the desk, staring at him with bemused interest made it clear that he was already well-aware of Shikamaru's purpose in Suna. Which was a good thing; it meant the news had gotten around. But he was irritated, nonetheless. He'd like to think these guys would save their teasing for later, but you never could tell.

"To get married."

Izumo's uncovered eye darted to Kotetsu. "To get married, eh? Kotetsu, did you know Shikamaru had gotten married?"

"I might have heard something like that," he said, still scribbling on the clipboard.

"And the bride is...?"

He stepped out of the way, so that the pair could see, and said "Nara Temari" at the same moment that she said, simply, "Temari."

Her eyes widened, and she stared at him. But with or without the Nara, Izumo and Kotetsu both froze, like matching mannequins, Kotetsu's hand poised over the clipboard.

"Did you say Temari?"

Oh, yeah. Very funny. These two knew perfectly well who Temari was. They were just being idiots. Shikamaru's hand went to the back of his neck of its own accord, rubbing. "Yeah."

"Gaara's _sister_ Temari?" Kotetsu's voice was too loud, and Shikamaru leaned in toward him, speaking in lower tones.

"Just write the name, would you?"

"I'm writing, I'm writing."

Izumo gave a low whistle.

It was already hot outside, but Shikamaru could could feel his face warming regardless. How embarrassing. He was probably going to get this reaction from everyone, jealous or impressed or whatever that he'd scored such a powerful woman. And the fact that it was going to be so obvious that she'd had to be coerced into marrying him just made it worse.

Kotetsu turned the clipboard around so that they could sign their names.

"I'm going to assume you have the marriage certificate," Izumo said. "You have three days to get it verified at the Office of the Hokage, or you'll both be arrested, along with anyone else that's determined to have been harboring an enemy of Konoha."

"Got it."

Temari was given her three-day pass, and Shikamaru led her in the direction of "home." He couldn't decide if he was apprehensive or relieved to be going there. He would certainly feel better once he was able to talk with Dad at more length about this Anti-Danzo group, but it was going to be very awkward bringing Temari into the menagerie that was the house the Naras shared with two other families. And Ino would doubtlessly tease and bother the both of them mercilessly. And _Mom_...

Apprehension was definitely winning.

"So..." Shikamaru was surprised to feel Temari's hand on his arm, grasping it just above the elbow, like a claw. "_Nara_ Temari?"

He shrugged. "We're married. You took my surname."

"We were married in Suna, and we don't have that custom. So, no, I didn't."

"But you're in Konoha, now, and you're going to be recognized by the clan you belong to. When we get your citizenship approved, it'll have my name on it. For all intents and purposes, you're Nara now."

He heard her mutter "belong to" under her breath, but this was an argument he didn't want to have, right now. So he let it go.

**O O O**

"So, what do you think?"

"I think it was about time. Those two were disgusting."

"I hear ya."

**O O O**

No one could have accused Nara's mother of cheating on his father with the mailman. Nara looked so much like his father that it was almost funny, and Temari occasionally found herself staring at the older man in disbelief. It shouldn't be surprising, when you considered the way new humans were made. DNA exchanged, and all that, and yet Temari had never seen a child come out like a perfect clone of one of his parents before. Shouldn't Nara have inherited something from his mom?

And, somehow, the older Nara, Shikaku, seemed to be even more laid back than his son, which was different than what she'd imagined, given his recent level of political activity. He didn't seem like the kind of man to ever leave his house, let alone stand on a soapbox and pontificate to a crowd. He was apathetic. And she wondered, was this what she had to look forward to? Would Nara just get progressively less involved as he aged? And how did his mother deal with a man like that? The woman ran a tight ship; that much was obvious. And it didn't seem like she allowed dust bunnies or mildew or any other time-wasters on her ship. So how had Shikaku gotten on?

But despite the man's relaxed personality, or perhaps because of it, everyone tended to shut up and listen when he spoke. Which was a miracle, because the house was packed with people, and they always seemed to be talking over each other. No power was exerted, no effort put forth, and yet he was the clear leader of the household, all three families included. Unless you counted his wife's influence over _him_, which was considerable. But, in general, he was the recognized boss.

And even though Nara's mom was efficient, and hurried through her activities as if the dishes might multiply and take over the house if she gave them a chance, there was still something oddly comforting about her. She was neurotic with her chores, and her husband, and her son, and yet she was perfectly patient with everyone else. It seemed as though as long as she had total control over her little realm, she was happy.

So Temari's first impression of her in-laws was an okay one. But she held more specific opinions back, waiting to see how things might change once they all got used to each other. For one thing, she was concerned about Nara's mother. It was easy enough to pretend that the woman would always be kind and genial with Temari, but her control issues could go one of two ways: either she would slowly get used to the idea of Temari as the woman in her son's life and loosen her grip on the reins, or she would suck Temari into her vortex and claim her as another Nara that she should have total influence over. So Temari didn't let herself respond too positively to Nara-san's friendly demeanor, yet. She didn't want to give the woman the idea that she would be easy to lead around.

But at least she hadn't done that disgusting "call me Mom" thing. If she had, Temari probably would have packed up and headed back to Suna that night. A couple of women had tried that on Temari in her life, and with much less reason. A neighbor, the mother of a friend, might have made her that offer as a child. Maybe because they saw her as a pathetic, motherless waif, or maybe because they were trying to force intimacy. Temari had never been the least bit interested in replacing her mother with a shallow, plastic version, and her refusal to refer to the women as they wanted nearly always resulted in offense taken, feelings hurt, and a _distancing_ of the relationship. And no mother allowed that with her real child, which just made Temari realize how insincere the offers had been in the first place. Now she just saw attempts like that as insecurity on the part of the woman. As weakness.

There was nothing weak about Nara's mom. About Yoshino. Crammed at the dinner table between Shikamaru and his large teammate, Chouji, Temari had a clear view of the way she handled the mealtime activities, and it was as if she was commanding a squad. The other women, Ino included, were her soldiers, and she ordered them around with short, effective suggestions. These women probably never realized they were being subjugated. And that made Yoshino scary. Temari, apparently, was exempt from helping tonight, but she wondered how long it would be before she became just another underling when dinner rolled around. She had a feeling it wouldn't be long.

"Temari-chan," Yoshino said, entering the room with a large tureen of soup, "do you like persimmons?"

"Sure..."

"Ino-chan, I think some persimmons would be nice."

Ino scurried off into the kitchen to obey, once again leaving Temari in awe of Yoshino's ability to command without sounding like she was. This might actually be a useful thing to learn, not that it was really Temari's style. When she led a squad, she ruled with an iron fist, and she liked it that way. No question about who the boss was. No questions at all.

"Shikamaru! Elbows off the table!"

Well...okay. Yoshino had different ways of bossing different people. That made sense.

Temari could hear Nara grumbling under his breath, but he sat back and put his hands in his lap. And Temari wondered if Yoshino was gentler with people who weren't family, or tougher with Nara and his father because subtlety didn't work. She found the entire subject fascinating.

"How was your trip?" Yoshino asked, once they were all seated around the table eating, and Temari looked up to see that she was the one to whom the question was directed.

"Long," she said.

"Have any trouble?"

Temari shook her head, swallowing a bite of soup. "Just with bandits...two of them in Kawa. I don't think they expected merchants to know how to defend themselves, or they would have brought a larger group."

"Well, that's good. It's not going to be easy from here on out. There will be a lot of people keeping their eyes and the two of you, but when Shikamaru has to go to work, we'll be split. Unless..."

Nara was shaking his head, as though he already knew where his mother was going with her train of thought. "She's not going to want to go to school with me."

"I might as well," said Temari. "It's not like I have a job in Konoha."

"Let me put it another way," he said. "Having you there will be a distraction to my students. They don't listen to me as it is."

"Then grow a pair. Stand up for yourself."

This comment brought a round of snickers from the table, and Temari had to suppress her urge to tell them all to shut it.

"Okay, how's this? No, you're not going to work with me."

"I didn't mean stand up to _me_."

"Can this conversation wait until we don't have an audience?"

Oh, yeah, and when would that be? The house was brimming with audience. Temari was impressed with her own self-control, that she was keeping these thoughts to herself. She wasn't used to restraining her commentary. Instead, she waved him off and went back to her soup. But Shikaku cleared his throat, and Temari found herself looking up along with everyone else.

"Taking her with you is a good idea," he said. "It'll get you both in the public eye. Show you as unified."

Temari couldn't help but rub it in a little. "See?" she said, looking at Nara. "Unified."

He said nothing, but went back to eating, with even less enthusiasm than normal.

"Do you have a new map of Konoha?" Yoshino asked Temari.

"Mm." She nodded. "Na-Shikamaru gave me one."

"Keep it with you in case you get separated."

Ino's father, Inoichi, laughed. "She's not going to need that. All she'll have to do is say 'help' and there'll be half-a-dozen shinobi to her rescue."

"Can't be too cautious," said Yoshino, smiling. She sounded like Gaara. Or, rather, Gaara sounded like _her_. Like a mother.

"So, what I want to know is," said Nara, "what's happening with Danzo? What's the plan?"

There was quiet at the table, and Temari assumed that that meant Shikaku would be speaking again.

"There are several moves we have to make, in order, and with perfect timing before we can attack. My goal is to overthrow Danzo without the loss of one life."

"Except Danzo's," said Inoichi.

"Possibly," said Shikaku. "But these moves will all be made behind the scenes. The two of you just need to focus on staying public, and staying alive. It's the only mission you have, because it will require all of your concentration."

Nara watched him for a moment, as if expecting more. When it was clear that no more information would be given, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "That's it? That's all you're going to tell me?"

"That's all you need to know."

"But-"

"I'll give you a list of people you can trust, and let you memorize it. Other than that, you need to leave the rest to me."

"But...that's crap, Dad! You're controlling my whole life and you're not explaining a single thing to me!" He whipped his head toward Temari, like she might back him up. And he was right, it _was_ crap. So, what? They were supposed to do everything they were told without question? That was worse than crap. And it was personally offensive to Temari. Konoha wasn't her village, not really, but she was expected to totally submit, _again_, when, as far as she could tell, the events only barely connected with her life. Yes, she wanted Suna to have an alliance with Konoha. Yes, she wanted to be loyal to Gaara. But she and Nara both were strong tacticians. There was no reason that they couldn't be useful in other ways. And there was no reason to keep them in the dark, as if they couldn't be trusted.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe Shikaku didn't completely trust Temari, and so he was playing it safe by not giving Nara information that he might pass on. Maybe he didn't trust Gaara. But then _why_ this elaborate plot to bring Suna to their side?

"Is it me?" she asked. No point in beating around the bush. "I don't know what I can do to prove my allegiance, except to go down and become a Konoha citizen first thing tomorrow morning."

Shikaku shook his head. "It's not you. And becoming a Konoha citizen wouldn't prove anything, even if it was. All you'll be doing is swearing an oath of fealty to the hokage. An oath that you most certainly are going to break."

"Then, why? Why leave us ignorant?"

He met her gaze, his posture lethargic, but his eyes sharp. "Remember, the thing that's most vital is for you to maintain transparency for the citizens. There will be times when being ignorant is the only way to do that."

"I have to be honest," Temari said. "You're making me suspect that we shouldn't trust _you_. I don't mean to be offensive, but you're admitting that you have goals for us to accomplish, and that being informed of those goals would cause us not to accomplish them. Is it because the knowledge would give us reason not to act?"

Everyone at the table was staring at her, and no one was nodding agreement. Not even Nara, who seemed more stupefied than anything. And his parents looked...quite frustrated. But she couldn't help it; she had to call a spade a spade.

The silence dragged on, the only sound an occasional squeak of a chair. But, then, a bark of laughter, and Temari turned to see Yoshino, hand covering her mouth. She shook her head in silent apology.

"Temari," said Shikaku, "I'm not sure what to say. Yes, the knowledge might very well cause hesitance when it's time to follow through with the plan. But our team is working hard to create the best future for Konoha, and for Suna, and we can't do it without the two of you. I can't tell you anything that will make you trust me, but your husband does. Do you trust his judgment?"

She looked at Nara, at his profile, because he wasn't facing her, and realized she didn't even have to ask herself the question. She trusted him. She didn't think that he would be easily fooled, even by his own father. He was probably the most analytical, conservative, conscientious guy she knew, and she doubted that he would ever make a move without already being sure of the consequences. She sighed.

"Yes."

Shikaku nodded. "As we go, there may be things that I can tell you, and I promise that if I can, I will. I won't shut you out any more than I have to."

There was nothing else she could say, except, "Thank you."

**O O O**

"I _love_ her! She's absolutely perfect."

"I'll bet you do."

"Revenge is sweet, my dear."

"It's funny now, but wait until she turns it on _you_."

"Did you see Shikamaru's face? I think he fell in love."

"Some son. Fall in love with the girl who insults your father."

"Would you prefer that they lived unhappily ever after?"

"I'd prefer not to have _two_ troublesome women in my house, bossing me around. That's what I'd prefer."

"Kiss me."

"Yes, ma'am."

**O O O**

The list was longer than he expected, and it was heartening to see that so many people were on Kakashi's side. Conspicuously missing, however, were all of the Hyuugas, other than Hinata, and several prominent families had no members at all. And tomorrow, after getting Temari her citizenship, he would be going to work. And he would be teaching the children of many of these prominent families, and he would be taking Temari with him. And he couldn't, for the life of him, decide if she was an asset or a liability. But those families needed to be won over, especially the Hyuugas. And he and Temari were supposed to do that? Collectively, they were probably the two least endearing people in the world. Whose dumb idea was this again?

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, and Ino came in when prompted.

"Since when do you knock?" he asked.

"Since you got married," she said. "Where's Temari-san?"

"I don't know. Isn't she in your room?"

"Why would she be in my room?"

He folded the list, placing it on his bedside table. "Because that's where she's sleeping?"

Ino stared at him blankly for some time, until he started to get uncomfortable.

"What?" he asked.

"Why isn't she staying with you?"

Oh, please. This again. It was bad enough with Temari on his case, but now Ino was after him, too.

"Why doesn't anyone grasp that Chouji sleeps in here?" he asked. "Temari can't share my room without putting Chouji in yours."

"So?"

"So, that's weird."

Ino snorted and put a hand on one hip. "It hasn't been weird since we were twelve, Shikamaru. We've been in a lot more awkward situations than _that_."

"It gets weirder the older we get," he said. "And you know it."

"We all have to make concessions. Chouji and I won't be the only unrelated guy and girl sharing sleeping space. Konoha is full of situations like that right now."

"Yeah, and in nine months it's going to be full of babies, with nowhere to put them."

The eye-rolling at this statement was probably record-breaking. "First of all, you sound like my dad, so stop. Secondly, what you're suggesting is making me nauseous. What's wrong with you?"

"I'm just saying. It's basic post-war psychology."

Ino bounded across the room and flopped beside him on the bed. "Don't you want Temari-san in here with you?"

Great. She'd done it. She'd gone for the most direct question, and the one with the most complicated answer. He wasn't even positive he knew what the answer was.

"Ino...I don't know."

She brushed her bangs out of her face, just long enough for him to see both of her eyes. "Well, haven't you been sleeping together up until now?"

"I slept in her bed the first night, and we shared a tent all the way here. But-"

"Wait, wait, wait," she said, holding up her hand. "I'm not asking about _where_ you were sleeping."

He ran her question through his mind again, and caught his misinterpretation. "Whoa," he said. "_No_. We haven't even been married a whole week."

"Most people don't wait a whole _day_, doofus."

He stood up and crossed the room, shoving his hands in his pockets. This was not something he wanted to be discussing with Ino right now. Or ever. But it seemed like she was deliberately misunderstanding him, and he didn't know why. "Most people aren't forced to get married, either. Isn't the difference obvious?"

"Yeah, but this is Temari-san we're talking about."

He waited for more. An explanation. _Something_. But she just looked at him as if she were being perfectly clear.

"So?"

"So, I mean...don't you like her?"

And, _again_ with the direct, frankly rude questions. "What makes you think I like her?"

"You fight, like, _all _the time, for one thing," she said.

"Oh, that's logical. So do you and Sakura."

"And we have a _reason_," she said. "We're rivals. So why do you fight with Temari-san?"

He paused, and he noticed that he'd been pacing. Why did he fight with Temari? He couldn't seem to come up with anything concrete; just value judgments.

"She's infuriating," he said.

"Mm-hm. Why?"

"Because...she never listens." Why did he feel so sick to his stomach? "She always has a comeback. She fights with me first!"

"You're saying it's circular."

Yeah, this was the perfect time for her to drop the ditzy blond routine. When her questions were making his brain hurt.

"You don't know why you fight with her." Ino continued. "Maybe she doesn't know why she fights with you?"

"I have no idea, Ino. Go away."

"I'm going to find her stuff and bring it in here," she said. "It's just practical. When you guys finally do realize you've got the hots for each other you'll have to come to me and Chouji and _ask_ to trade rooms, and it'll be all awkward because then Chouji and I will know everything. And that's gross. I don't want to think about it."

"Then don't think about it! For someone who doesn't want to think about stuff you're really obsessing, you know that?"

"And it's fine, see? There's that whole other bed, right over there. She can sleep there, and no pressure. Right?"

He was pacing again. "Would you go away, already?"

Just then, Chouji walked in and sat on his bed, working on his bag of after-dinner chips. "What are you guys fighting about?"

But Ino simply pointed at him and said "up." And, being Chouji, he obeyed without argument.

"Come on, Chouji," she said, hopping up and grabbing him by his arm. "Let's go find somewhere else to put you."

Yes, please, go somewhere else. He didn't care about Temari any more, or Chouji. He just wanted Ino gone, so he could not-think in peace. Irritating woman. With her questions.

Unfortunately, this was the moment Temari chose to walk in.

And she didn't look happy.

* * *

**A/N:** Ah. My husband is so helpful and yet...so not. He's been my beta for this story, just because he's here and it's fast, usually, and I'm trying to throw these chapters up. And let me tell y'all something; the first draft of this story was as long as this draft, about 6,500 words. And when it was over, they were _just_ getting to Konoha. So you can thank my husband for catching that and informing me of how horribly boring it was. And it was. So boring. Even though I'd tried to spruce things up with a flamboyantly homosexual OC. No, I'm not kidding. So everyone give Big Pockets a collective thank you. (Thank you, Big Pockets!)

And now, for the not-so-helpful part. While I was trying to come up with a title for this chapter, here are some of the awesome suggestions he gave me:

"Unhammersmithed!"

"Uncle-rumpelstiltskinned!"

"Underweared!"

"Unitarded!"

So...yeah. If this chapter title is a little off, it's because of all the "help" I was receiving at the time. How's a woman supposed to work in these conditions?

Anyhoo, sorry for the wait. The next chapter shouldn't take nearly as long. It looks like Tsunade's going to live in the manga, and I'm so happy that I don't even care if it makes my story AU. :D Please review!


	5. Unwelcomed

**Hey!** Sorry, I had to start this chapter off with a quick note to make sure we're all on the same page. I have to thank Coelha-chan for bringing my boneheaded maneuver to my attention: I failed to explain why the Naras are living with the Akamichis and Yamanakas. Remember how I mentioned the boring, original version of Chapter 4 that my husband rescued you all from? Well, that version of the chapter explained how Konoha was still deep in its reconstruction efforts and that many families were having to share cramped living space while more homes were built. But I completely forgot to make sure that information made it into my revision. So, anyway, I went back and added a bit to the rest of the story to hopefully make sure new readers know what's going on, and this chapter here always had reflections on the new Konoha from Temari's POV. So we should be cool. Thanks, Coelha-chan. :)

This is also the first (only?) chapter not to start with untagged dialogue, largely because the last chapter was a cliffhanger and this one just picks up where it left off. Plus, this chapter has a ton of dialogue, anyway. And I scorn tags. So, you know...there's that.

Now, on to the chapter!

* * *

**Chapter Five**

**Unwelcomed**

Temari had come in just as Ino and Chouji had gone, and she was wearing that face that suggested that she was looking for something to crush with her bare hands. Barely checked frustration. She marched across the room and sat down on Chouji's bed as if she already thought it was hers, and Shikamaru's first concern was that she'd heard some part of his conversation with Ino. But when he went back through it, replaying it in his mind like a tape recording, he was fairly confident that he hadn't said anything incriminating. Although he wasn't sure, exactly, in which crime he was afraid he might have implicated himself. Ino had said some pretty obnoxious things, but it wouldn't make sense for Temari to be angry at him for things Ino said. Not that everything Temari did made sense.

She looked up at him, crossed her fingers together, uncrossed them and flexed them. Reached up and scratched her head behind one bunch of hair. Fidgety.

"I hate this," she said, simply. "I hate not knowing anything at all. It makes me nervous."

Oh, that. Yeah, that was a sentiment he could strongly relate with. Being uninformed was second only to being unprepared. The problem was that the former very often caused the latter. But Dad's explanation had made a lot of sense. He _hated_ it, but he understood it.

"I know how you feel," he said. "But we have to accept that, right now, we're not shinobi. Right now we're just faces. We have to let other people do the dirty work and keep _our _hands clean."

"But that's not me," she said. "And it's not you. We _are_ shinobi. It's not a job; it's a life. And I wasn't born to be a trophy wife. I was born to be the bodyguard."

She cracked the knuckles of one hand, which was a startlingly masculine, aggressive thing to do. But he didn't think she was trying to play tough. It was absent-minded. Another tic, like the fidgeting and scratching. And he'd never seen her so out of control of her body before. Like she just couldn't sit still.

"But you were never going to be anything else," he said.

"Huh?" She glanced up, clearly having already lost the thread of conversation. "Anything other than what?"

"A trophy wife. I mean, look at who you are. There's no guy in Suna or Konoha with more power than you, except maybe your brother or Danzo. Anyone who married you was going to be marrying above themselves. That's just obvious."

She looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. "Maybe that's why I never wanted to get married. I don't want to be worshiped."

"Well, I don't worship you, so you can be happy about that."

Her body stilled for a moment as she watched him. Her eyes on him made him self-conscious, like he was being examined, but then they dropped to her hands and she cracked the other set of knuckles. "Mm."

A knock at the door. Ino.

"Go away, Ino."

She ignored him, as usual. "I brought Temari-san's bag," she said. "And Chouji's going to be sleeping in the living room. So everything worked out."

Temari reached out her hand for the bag, but she was frowning. "Are you sure it's fine? I don't want to put anyone out."

What? _What_? The woman had bothered him endlessly about how important it was to share a room with her husband. And now she was treating it like it was no big deal?

"Trust me," Ino said. "Chouji's thrilled. He won't have to walk so far for midnight snacks."

"If you're sure..."

"I'm sure." Ino trounced back out, closing the door behind her, gone as abruptly as she had come.

"Anyway," Temari said, dropping her bag by the bed, "I get the 'mission.' Stay stupid, and stay alive. But those two things are usually mutually exclusive. And I don't..." She held her hands out, palms up, like she was at a complete loss. "I don't even have my fan, okay? It's three days away."

He couldn't argue with her. He truly did sympathize. But he felt like her anxiety was out of proportion. "Is something else bugging you?"

"Does there need to be something else? This is bad enough."

"You're just...I don't know."

Her eyes met his. "Look, I meant what I said. I do trust your judgment."

And that statement had the power to stun him, just as it had the first time. And, strangely, to compound on what was left of the queasiness from his chat with Ino. Or maybe that was because of the way she was still watching him, totally serious, and without blinking. He would be a lot more comfortable if she would just _blink_.

"But?"

"But I just wish I had a clearer picture of why _you_ trust _him_."

"Why shouldn't I? He's my father."

Her face made it evident that his words had been as comprehensible to her as a foreign language. And that's when it hit him:

In Temari's world, a father was the last person that you should trust.

It was eye-opening, and it flipped his view of her upside-down. He'd always thought of her as someone who was emotionally and physically strong. But with a family like hers, could she have survived if she'd been any other way? Growing up like that, how would she have ever learned to put her faith in anyone? She'd said it herself. Being a shinobi wasn't a job for her, it was her life. Because, for Temari, there had never been a time where it hadn't been vital that she be on guard. React quickly. Protect herself. There had never been a time in her life where she could depend on the intentions of another person. Not entirely. Even Gaara, her brother, her Kage, had spent years threatening her life. And Kankuro had had serious moments of instability. A cruel streak. And who could she have trusted, if not her family?

But she'd said that she trusted Shikamaru. Even if a little bit. And, until now, it hadn't really occurred to him what a heavy burden that was. He didn't want to be another person in her life that she would eventually come to be wary of, but how does a guy go about being trustworthy all the time? It seemed like the answer might be to never make any claims or promises at all, because then there would be no faith to violate. But he'd never seen a marriage that functioned that way. Maybe it was just...a resolution. A decision. To do everything in his power to avoid disappointing her.

That sounded like a lot of work. But as objectionable as all that work sounded, much worse was the thought of being another reason for her to doubt human decency, or the strength of familial bonds.

So confusing. He had ventured from the solid ground of the logical onto the shifting sand of the emotional. And he didn't really know anything, except that he didn't want to damage his wife.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked. She sounded suspicious.

"Temari..." He sat beside her on her bed, but her uncertainty only seemed to deepen. She scooted away a bit, putting some distance between them.

"What?"

"Fathers..." he said, "well, the thing is, most of them can be depended on. I think they want what's best for their children. Even if they're annoying about it sometimes."

"That doesn't follow. Any tool can father a child. Using your sperm successfully doesn't suddenly make you caring or sacrificial."

"I've never been a dad, so I can't say. I can only speak from my experience with my own dad, and my friends' dads, and most of them have been both caring and sacrificial. The ones that are left, anyway . The rest of them gave their lives to keep their families safe way back in the last war."

Her eyes flickered comprehension, but she'd learned the wrong lesson.

"Have you been psychoanalyzing me?"

"Not intentionally."

"Stop staring at me like you think I'm pathetic."

"I don't think you're pathetic."

"Then _what_ is that look on your face?"

"I have no idea. I can't see it."

She closed her eyes, and took several deep breaths through her nose. He could tell she was trying not to lose her temper. He was grateful for that, but he couldn't help but wish her urge to lose her temper at him didn't exist at all.

"You told me you trust me," he said. "But if it isn't trust that you can act on, it isn't real."

A tightening in her jaw. "I _am_ acting on it. That doesn't mean I have to like it."

Someone else was at the door, and Shikamaru and Temari both said "come in" at the same time. It was Mom, and she cracked the door open tentatively, just peeking inside.

"Hope I'm not interrupting," she said.

Temari's smile was forced, but she shook her head.

"Ino-chan told me about the sleeping arrangements, so I came up to change the sheets."

"I can change them," said Temari.

Mom let herself in and shooed them off the bed. "Don't be silly. You're still the guest of honor. But tomorrow you'll be a resident, and then all bets are off."

Temari's face broke into a real smile at this. It was over quickly, but for those few seconds, her eyes brightened, irritation falling away from her features. And Shikamaru felt something hit him in the chest, something soft and heavy, that knocked the wind out of him a little.

He looked down to see that he was holding one set of the sheets.

"You can change your own," Mom said.

"Yeah, yeah."

Later that night, when the lights were out, Temari sleeping in Chouji's bed, and the house was as quiet as it was ever going to get, Shikamaru had some time to think. And lying there on his fresh sheets, with his hands folded behind his head and his eyes wide open, staring into darkness, he examined his situation. He lay out every piece of the puzzle that he had, and even though quite a few were missing, he was still able to see the picture when he stepped back. Ino had helped him, in her aggravating way, but the best clues had come from Temari herself, when she'd inadvertently given him a glimpse into who she really was. Strong, yes. But strength born of defensiveness. Composed, but only because showing her feelings might give the rest of the world the upper hand. Strangely apt was her animal summoning, the ferret. The quickest movers and thinkers in the animal kingdom, because not only were they constantly hunting, they were always being hunted. They had no choice but to remain vigilant, and, above all, to keep moving.

A flash of her fingers, flexing and folding, popped into his mind. He'd never been able to picture her, until tonight, as someone with a weakness. As someone who was missing something. Anything. As someone with an emptiness that needed to be filled, in order to be complete.

Then Ino's voice: _When you guys finally _do _realize you've got the hots for each other..._

He thought he knew the signs. He'd never experienced them himself, but he'd heard enough people talk about it to know what it meant. He had always respected her, had always been a little in awe of her. Even afraid of her. But now, on top of that, he wanted to be the one that she could rely on, someone that she could be sure would never betray her, so that, now and then, she could be free not to be hunted. Which was...wrong. It was wrong for him to want to take such an active role in another human's life.

And why did he _still_ feel like he was going to throw up?

_...you've got the hots for each other..._

He rolled over, enough to see her sleeping form. All that was visible from under the blankets was a puff of blonde hair; she had the covers pulled up over her eyes. Burrowing. Hiding.

_So, I mean...don't you like her?_

His throat shut down tight. Trying to hold back the answer. But he always had sucked at lying to himself.

_...you like her..._

Finally, a sigh escaped him at the realization. You _like_ her.

You _like _Temari of the Desert. A woman that's never given any indication that she's interested in men _at all_, let alone _you_. And wasn't that just typical? Typical for him to feel this way about someone that was too obstinate or guarded or disinterested to reciprocate, or to admit it if she did.

Absolutely _typical_.

**O O O**

As soon as the Office of the Hokage opened in the morning, Temari followed Nara down to get her citizenship approved. It was going to make him late for work, but it was a good excuse, and it's not like his classes hadn't needed to be covered for the last week, anyway. What was another hour?

The walked through the streets of Konoha, through ground she'd supposedly tread before, although very little of it was familiar to her. There was no sign of destruction; Pain's work had left nothing behind except rubble, so no part of the old Konoha still existed, except for the mountain. And Temari herself had been on a team that had helped carry away a lot of that rubble in the beginning, to make room for the new buildings. That is, until Danzo had sent the Suna teams home, with the ridiculous assertion that they weren't needed anymore; all the most important jobs had been done already. Right.

Now Konoha was sparse, as far as buildings went. There were probably one-fifth of the homes that there used to be, and very few businesses. What goods could be bought and sold were peddled right out on the street, or from tables that could be carried home at night. But the roads were crowded with people, and Temari knew why; when your home was so full of other families that you couldn't breathe, the only way to get your thoughts straight was to get _out_. The problem was, out wasn't much better than in, if everyone else had the same idea you did.

They weaved through the people and the make-shift market set up in the road, keeping their eyes peeled. Temari was wearing her two small fans side-by-side on her back, in a strap that Yoshino had rigged for her the night before, and she'd spent some time this morning adjusting the strap and practicing reaching back with both hands at unfamiliar angles to retrieve the fans as quickly as possible. She'd discovered that the best way was to wear the fans angled outward slightly, then cross her arms in front of her body and pull them out with the opposite hands. Her shoulder muscles hurt from all the practice, from stretching them so sharply and so abruptly. But she was better off than Nara, who'd come around the corner of the house just in time to stop a fan from slamming into his face, and resulting in serious bruising in his hand. Oh, well. At least she could say he had good reflexes.

So they were uninformed, but as alert as possible, as they made their way through. Near the end of the street, where the merchants were thinning out, they passed a woman selling breakfast from a cart. Temari had never met her before, but she seemed to know Nara; she called out to him when they were close enough.

"Shikamaru!"

"Hi."

She was middle-aged, and fairly stout, and she was waving a raw piece of meat on a skewer. But she had a smile that lit up her face, making her seem a lot younger than she probably was. She turned the smile on Temari.

"Is this your wife?" the woman asked.

He nodded. "Temari." Then he held his hand out to the older woman. "Ogawa-san."

"Nice to meet you," said Ogawa-san.

"You, too."

"I can't believe you're married, Shikamaru," said Ogawa-san. "You just seem so young. But I suppose we should grab on to love when we find it."

Nara didn't correct her on the nature of the marriage, which was the right decision. Part of what would make this whole farce work was the illusion of young love, to stir the emotions of the public.

"Have the two of you had breakfast?" she asked. The skewer was really going now, as the woman stabbed it toward them in her concern for their nutritional well being.

"We have," said Temari. "Try getting out of his mother's house without it. Impossible."

"Well, come around for lunch, on the house. I'll be here."

"Thank you."

They bid Ogawa-san farewell, and continued on their way. But Temari knew that this was only the beginning. Nara's family was well-known enough to garner plenty of attention with a Suna marriage, and people would be curious. She was going to have to do her best to be lovable, whatever that entailed. Probably not being herself.

The Office of the Hokage bore no resemblance to the old office, being nothing but a large but plain building that looked just like its neighbors to the east and west. But a desk was set up inside where a young woman sat, disinterestedly flipping through a file and twisting a strand of hair around a finger. She glanced up as they entered, and gave them a professional and insincere smile.

"Can I help you?"

"We're here to have our marriage certificate verified, and to add my wife to the citizen registry," said Nara, who was already pulling the necessary paperwork out of a folder. He handed it to the woman, who seemed hesitant to take it.

"Nara?"

He nodded.

She examined the papers with narrowed eyes, paying special attention to the marriage certificate. But then she tapped the desk, looking up at them both apologetically. "I'm sorry," she said, "but I can't accept this."

Temari had half-way been expecting something like this; the chances that everything was going to go smoothly had seemed close to nil. But the reality of it still angered her. She took the last two steps toward the secretary's desk and leaned over it, putting her face close to the woman's, who shrank back. But there was a tug on her sleeve, a hand grasping her arm. Pulling her away.

"Is something wrong with the marriage certificate?" Nara asked, gripping her tightly enough that she couldn't yank her arm away without breaking some of his fingers. "If you check the chakra stamp you'll see that the marriage was completed while Suna was still an ally."

"I'm unable to make a determination on the validity of the date stamp," said the woman, in a well-rehearsed tone of voice. "Konoha is no longer recognizing Suna marriages."

"What?" said Temari "But what about all the couples that were married in Suna before?"

"All marriages older than one week have been grandfathered in," she said.

"So it's only ours that's being denied, is that what you're telling me?"

"I don't have any more information. I'm sorry."

"Listen to me," said Temari, finally twisting herself away from Nara. "I want you to get out of your chair, and _find_ someone with information. I don't care if you have to go to Danzo himself. I'm not leaving until I have some answers."

"Temari."

"What?" She turned on Nara, who was watching her with an eyebrow raised.

"Threatening the secretary isn't going to get us anywhere."

"I'm not threatening her," she said. "If I were, I'd do this." She drew her fans with lightning speed, almost enjoying the pain across her shoulders and upper back, and flipped them both open. Then she looked at the secretary again, who had scraped her chair back until she was pressed against the wall. "See, if I were threatening you," Temari said, "this is what it would look like."

The woman just stared at her, eyes wide.

Nara cleared his throat, and Temari spun on him again. "_What?_"

"I think we should go."

"Go, then. I'm staying right here until this is straightened out. Our marriage is perfectly legal, and hokage or not, Danzo has no right to contest it."

"I know, but we're not going to do anything about this right now. We're going to explain the situation to my dad, and see what he says."

"Oh, _we_ are, are we?"

He just yawned. "We still have two days. And maybe he'll tell you to come back and threaten all you want."

She knew he was right, and it just troubled her more. It compounded on her feelings of helplessness, like everyone had power or knowledge except for her, even Nara. But she made herself close her fans and replace them on her back, then focused on not being so irked that she got distracted and let her guard down. It would be stupid to let unfounded irritation at her husband get her killed.

Without another word for the stunned secretary, they left the Office, heading for the school. They were stopped more than once by parties interested in the new Nara bride, and each time they were her rage at Danzo compounded, until it was nearly choking her. And when she found herself in another of these "chats" with Hyuuga Hinata, she let a little of that rage leak out.

"I can't believe you're marr-" Hinata was saying, and Temari couldn't stop herself from cutting in and clearing up that annoying little fallacy.

"Technically, we're not," she said, and both Nara and Hinata looked at her in surprise. "Danzo's rejected our marriage."

"What?" Hinata asked. "Are you sure?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Well...but how can he do that? Is that legal?"

Temari shrugged. "No, but I don't care. If he won't let me become a Konoha citizen, then that means I still belong to Suna. And in Suna, I'm married. So Danzo can suck it."

Hinata's eyebrows furrowed cutely. "Suck...what?"

"So, anyway," Nara said quickly, "that's the state of things. But we need to get to the school, so we'll have to talk more about it later. See you, Hinata."

"Good-bye," she said, honest concern in her voice.

Once they were out of earshot, Nara said, "Any chance you could relax about this until we get home?"

"No. Forgive me for being defensive of my marriage. Should I keep my mouth shut to protect Danzo?"

"Not really. I don't see any reason to keep it a secret. But try not to be so blatantly vitriolic toward him. We can save that for later."

She turned to look at him; he was facing forward as he walked, slouching like always, hands in his pockets. He didn't glance back, even though she kept her eyes on him for a whole block. He hadn't really been focused on her at all today, actually; his mind was clearly somewhere else. Maybe he was concentrating on being prepared for a possible attack, but she wondered if she could even hear himself talking.

"You're being really bossy, did you know that?"

They went around a corner, and headed into the school building. From in the hallway they could hear classes being conducted, so they lowered their voices.

"And you're going to get us in trouble," he said. "I know you have a diplomatic version of yourself in there. Channel her, would you?"

Her gut instinct was to say "channel this" and give him the finger. But she recognized that for what it was: a desperate need to blow off steam. She was mad at Danzo, disgruntled with her role in Shikaku's war. And it was getting to her. She really needed to chill.

He stopped in front of a door and lowered his voice. "And I probably don't need to tell you this, but it's very important that you make a good impression on these students, because only about a quarter of them come from families that are skeptical or in opposition of Danzo."

Make a good impression. Like a sweet little wife whose only purpose is to be an ornament for her husband. Sounds like a blast.

"As you wish, master."

His eyes flicked to her, but he said nothing. That was probably a smart thing.

**O O O**

The kids seemed happy to have their teacher back, or at least curious about his extended absence. The chuunin that had been in charge of Nara's class while he was gone handed the chalk over with what might have been interpreted as just a tad too much vigor. Maybe he wasn't normally a teacher. Or maybe Nara's class was as problematic as he'd suggested. At any rate, the classroom door clicked shut almost before Nara could utter the words, "thanks for your help."

Nara taught the fifth-year class, Ninjutsu Theory, which seemed to be comprised of kids of about nine and ten years old. The first three years were straight academics, so these students had probably been studying ninjutsu for two years, and had likely mastered the basics, on paper, if not in practice. The different types of chakra, the names of all the hand seals and how to form them, those were things these children already knew, and they were undoubtedly anxious to get to use them. But what Nara taught was a much more abstract class. Temari remembered this Suna version of this year well; she'd hated every minute of it. And she wondered why Nara, of all people, had been assigned to teach it. He tended to look at things in black and white, just as she did. But Ninjutsu Theory was the first year that the students were introduced to the concept of "underneath the underneath." Temari grasped it well now, of course, but sitting still for that year of school had not been easy for her.

The first thing Nara did was erase what the substitute teacher had written on the board: Defensive Techniques and How to Use Them. Then, in a few brief strokes, he wrote the characters for "Invisibility." Then he strode to the first row of tables and grabbed an empty chair, brought it to the front of the room, and took a seat. There wasn't really anywhere for Temari to sit, but she was comfortable standing, for the time being. She walked over to the window nearest Nara and leaned against the sill. From here she could keep an eye outside for any signs of trouble.

"Invisibility," Nara said.

Only one word had fallen from his mouth, when a student interrupted, standing up and making himself obvious. A burly-looking boy with red hair and a tooth missing in the front. He was too old to be losing baby teeth; this one had been knocked out in a fight or rough play.

"Shikamaru-sensei!"

Nara glanced at Temari; they both knew where this was going. No point in putting it off.

"Yes, Gorou?"

"Did you really get married while you were gone?"

"I did."

"To a girl?"

"Yep."

The response was fairly equally divided: the boys all made gagging noises, and the girls sighed dreamily. Most of them, anyway; a couple broke out in the earnest tears of heartbreak.

A girl spoke out this time. "Shikamaru-sensei, did you marry that lady over there?" She pointed at Temari, as if there were other "ladies" in the vicinity to confuse him.

"That's her. You can call her Temari-san."

The girl's lips made a silent _oooh_, and she sat back down.

"Any more questions?" he asked. "I don't mind answering them, but I'm not going to take any once the lesson is started."

Apparently there were no more, although very few of the kids were looking at their teacher, at this point. The rest were studying Temari curiously.

"Invisibility," Nara said again, redirecting their attention. "What is it?"

Several kids spoke at once, and Nara waved them down from his chair. "One at a time."

"It's when no one can see you," said a boy.

"Okay."

"No it's not," said another boy, one that seemed like the smarty-pants type. "It's when you can't be seen at all."

"What's the difference?" asked the first boy.

"Well..." said Smarty, who looked like he'd jumped off into the deep end. "I mean...if you lose your shoes, and no one can see them, it doesn't mean they're invisible. Right, Shikamaru-sensei?"

Nara leaned back in his chair and put his arms behind his head, propping himself up on the chalkboard. "I don't know."

Temari stared at him. I don't know? What kind of teacher said "I don't know" to his students?

But the kids plainly expected this, and they took it as an invitation to shout out their opinions.

"No one can be invisible!"

"It only matters if it's day time!"

"It's the same."

Nara's eyebrows raised a little. "It's the same, Hanabi?"

A dark-haired Hyuuga girl nodded. "It's not _really_ the same, but for ninjas it doesn't matter. If no one can see you, you might as well be invisible."

Temari thought of the old riddle about a tree falling in the forest. The answer lay in the definition of sound. Was sound something that was produced, or something that was received? Likewise, with an image, was it something you emitted? Or something the eye interpreted? But the important thing was that this girl had cut through the crap and gone straight to the purpose of the lesson, which was to teach ninjutsu. Not to discuss philosophy or physics.

"What do you guys think?" asked Nara.

"I think it's different," said the burly red-headed boy from before. Gorou. "Just because you don't think anyone can see you, it doesn't mean they can't."

"But then you're just a bad ninja," said Hanabi. "Good ninjas can tell if they're visible to others."

Gorou's forehead wrinkled, and he sat back down. But Hanabi didn't gloat, she just sat as well and clasped her fingers together.

Smarty spoke up again. "But what if your enemy has a technique you don't know? Like he can see around walls or something?"

"Or he has bugs," said a girl. "Like the Aburame clan."

No one responded to this at first, but Nara made no effort to fill in the gap. He just let silence drag on for a minute, then another, while kids looked around or whispered to each other.

A mousy boy raised his hand, and Nara pointed to him. "Is it possible to be invisible to some people, and not to others?"

"Relativity," said Nara. "I don't know. Is it?"

"I think so," said the same boy. "Everyone is invisible to blind people."

Temari felt the oddest urge; she wanted to join in the conversation. To point out that if ten people are following you, only one of them has to have vision in order for you to be seen. But she didn't speak, aware that her opinion wouldn't be taken as that of another student. But never in her life had she been so inclined to participate in abstract discussion before. Maybe it was because it didn't feel like it was going "somewhere." She didn't get the feeling that Shikamaru-sensei was trying to corral the children in one direction, to try and force them to see things in a way that he'd planned all along. They were just...thinking.

Of course, it was silly for her to jump at giving him the credit for this. So far, all he'd done was sit back in a chair, half-asleep, and let the kids talk out loud to each other.

Leave it to him to pick that moment to stand up and gesture Temari toward him.

"Are you as quick with those little fans as you are with the big one?"

"Quicker," she said.

He had Temari stand in the middle of the floor, facing him, and he backed up all the way to the door. Then he ordered the entire class to get out of their seats and stand behind Temari. There was shuffling, the clatter of a knocked over chair, and plenty of talking as the kids obeyed.

Temari waited, wondering what Nara had planned, as she stood between him and his students. He reached into his hip pouch and pulled out a handful of shuriken, dividing them among both hands.

"Ready?" he asked, taking aim, and she suddenly realized the scheme. He was going to throw them at the class, and it would be Temari's job to deflect them. It was risky, but she wasn't really worried that she'd miss. She just hoped none of the kids freaked and ran, or they might get hit by a shuriken as it ricocheted. She'd have to make sure she direct them all forward, toward Nara.

She couldn't see the students, but she assumed they were watching in rapt attention, because they weren't making a peep. Suddenly, Nara's hand flashed, and Temari pulled both fans out, spreading them and knocking the shuriken away in one move. Many of the kids had squeaked, or even screamed, as the shuriken had come flying in their direction, and Temari turned to see several of them ducking on the ground, arms over their heads. But nothing had gotten through; every shuriken had clinked to the floor between Nara and Temari harmlessly.

"So," asked Nara, "did anyone see Temari-san move?"

The kids stared at her with wide, astonished eyes, and shook their heads.

"She didn't move!" said Gorou. "You just didn't throw them very hard!"

Temari knew how to handle this. She bent over and picked up a shuriken, handing it to the boy. Then she walked over to where Nara was standing and let Gorou try it himself. She stopped the shuriken as easily as the others, leaving the kids gobsmacked again.

"Did anyone see her this time?"

No, no one had seen her move.

"Hanabi?"

Temari could see that the Hyuuga girl had activated her byakugan for the second throw, but she shook her head as well.

"I couldn't see her," she said. She sounded very disappointed with herself.

"It's not weakness on your part," said Nara. "Temari-san is just too fast for the byakugan to see. But there's one eye that can see her. Can anyone guess which that might be?"

They all could. There were twenty-four shouts of "Sharingan!" as the kids headed back to their seats.

"So," Nara said, getting comfortable in his chair again. "Were Temari-san's fans invisible?"

Several kids said yes; a few were unsure. Smarty stubbornly insisted that the fans had still been visible, just not to this class.

"But that's what I keep saying," said Hanabi. "If the class can't see them, it doesn't matter who might be able to. There are no sharingans here."

The kids hashed this out for nearly an hour, with little help from Nara. He cut in now and then to call attention to a child who might ordinarily be ignored, but that was about the extent of his participation. And when the hour was over and the kids had been excused for lunch, talking excitedly and bursting with fresh ideas, Temari was left with the notion that she might just have witnessed the most productive class in the history of ninja academy.

The rest of Nara's subjects went that way, with a slight hiccup in math, which he actually had to _teach_. This subject was definitely his weak point; he obviously hated it as much as the kids did. Not that he wasn't good at it, he just seemed to have a hard time dumbing down what was in his brain so that the kids could grasp it.

He also included Temari anytime there was an opportunity, and by the last hour he'd managed to make her the hero of the class, or something. All the kids stared at her like she was unreal. She figured the point was to make sure they took home good stories about Temari to their parents, and she didn't mind. Showing off to a group of kids was kind of fun.

At the end of the day, most of the students went home on their own. But a few of them waited for parents or guardians, and Temari made an effort to be available to the adults for conversation. A couple of mothers asked her about her citizenship with polite curiosity, surely aware that Suna was an enemy village now, and she made no effort to hide the trouble they'd had from them. Although she did attempt to tune down the vitriol.

Hanabi was one of the children that had a family member come for her. Temari recognized this guy: Hyuuga Neji.

Nara nodded to him when he walked in. "Neji."

"Shikamaru. Glad to see you're back." His pale eyes came to rest on Temari, and he inclined his head. "Temari. Congratulations."

Conscious that this was one of the people on whom she was supposed to be making a good impression, she smiled. "Thank you."

Neji glanced in Hanabi's direction; the girl was talking with a friend at a table as she packed up. Once he seemed satisfied that she would be busy for a moment, he strode over to Nara and Temari.

"I heard something strange from Hinata-sama. I wanted to get verification from the two of you."

"About the validity of our marriage?" asked Nara.

Neji nodded. "She said that Danzo-sama isn't accepting it, even though it's legal. But, I have to admit, I find it hard to believe."

"Why?" asked Temari.

Neji's eyes narrowed a tiny bit, but the rest of his face was still cool and blank. "It seems like an extreme measure to go to. I know he doesn't support any ties with Suna, but an action like this would only provoke the citizens of Konoha."

Temari didn't say what she was thinking: that Neji had no idea what was going on behind the scenes, with those who opposed Danzo, but that Danzo likely had his suspicions.

"Maybe he's desperate," said Temari.

Neji looked unconvinced. "Desperate doesn't equal stupid."

He was an impassive guy, nearly impossible to read. But she got the distinct sense that he was trying to decide whether or not to trust them.

Nara apparently had the same feeling, because he straightened and looked Neji in the eye. "Are you suggesting we're making this up?"

"I don't know what to think. Talking with you now, I can see that you're being honest with me. Is there a chance you've made a mistake?"

"Definitely not," said Temari.

"Hm. Well, I'm sorry that the two of you are having trouble. I hope the issue can be resolved to your satisfaction." He didn't sound particularly sorry, just polite and good with sympathetic language. But Temari chose to accept the words at face value, so that she could respond with a sincerely grateful face. Neji shouldered Hanabi's backpack, and led her from the classroom.

When the class was empty, Nara shut it down for the evening and held the door for her, locking it behind them.

"Are we going to get a lot of responses like that?" asked Temari. "People who just think we're lying? I mean, what would be the point of that?"

"I don't think you should worry too much about Neji. I doubt that he's a staunch Danzo supporter, so much as someone who believes that rules should be followed and order maintained. He's not one for upsetting the status quo."

"If that's true, then he should be burning with righteous anger over how Danzo has bent the law to suit him."

"Let's hope so."

They returned home the way they had come, stopping by Ogawa-san's cart to pick up some barbecue, since dinner was still a couple of hours a way.

"So, Shikamaru-sensei," said Temari, holding her bag upright so none of the tiny containers of sauce would spill, "you're full of crap."

"How's that?"

"You said your students don't listen to you, but you're the best teacher I've ever seen."

A short laugh, almost a scoff, escaped him. "They _don't _listen to me. That's why I teach the way I do. If I get more involved, they blow me off. You saw how math went."

"Well, whatever. It works."

"They're pretty good kids," he said, looking up at the sky. "But they get really difficult if I try to hold them to any one train of thought. Except Hanabi. She does what she's told. She's definitely a Hyuuga."

Temari had to tease him a little. "I wonder if Hanabi was one of the girls crying because you got married."

"Just like you, right?"

"Ha ha."

**O O O**

"Well, hello, there."

"Put your eyes back in your head, Shikaku."

"It's just been a long time since I've seen you in those clothes. And with that katana."

"What, did you expect me to follow my son in a house dress? Apron flapping behind like a superhero?"

"Being on duty again is making you surly."

"Didn't it always?"

"I don't remember. All I remember is the amorous part."

"I think the amorous part was something you dreamed up while we were sparring."

"What about the time you had to climb a tree to get your shirt down? Am I imagining that?"

"Do you have any evidence of this alleged event?"

"You've been tailing him all day, Yoshino."

"Oh. Right."

**O O O**

Shikamaru found Dad sitting on the side porch with Ino, drinking tea and making notes on a piece of scrap paper. They both looked up at him as he approached, and from the expressions on their faces he could tell they'd already heard about the trouble he'd had getting Temari her citizenship.

"Word spreads fast," Shikamaru said, sitting down cross-legged beside them.

"Well, it's not like we didn't expect resistance from Danzo," said Dad. "Things could be worse."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing, for now," said Dad. He took a long drought of tea. "I'll take care of it."

Shikamaru sighed. He was so tired of not knowing anything. The wedding had been a secret until the last minute, and now all the plans...it was getting old. Fast.

His eyes happened to drift toward Ino, and he did a double-take as he realized she was studying him with rapt intensity. Like she was trying to see through his head and to the forest beyond.

"You did it, didn't you?" she said.

"Did what?"

"Figured it out."

"Am I supposed to know what you're talking about?"

Her gaze never wavered. "You love Temari."

"Oh." He was past the point of trying to guess how Ino knew some of the things she did. He didn't think it was mind-reading related, it was just...Ino. She knew people.

But talking about this in front of his father wasn't what he would have preferred.

"You're normal now," she said, uncrossing her legs and sticking them straight out in front. "You're only weird when you're confused."

He wasn't aware that he'd been acting 'weird.'

"But you haven't told her, yet. When are you going to tell her?"

He reached up and massaged his temples with his fingers. She just couldn't leave well enough alone. She'd gotten him to admit it to himself; wasn't that good enough?

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Want me to tell her for you?"

He let his glare speak for him.

She climbed to her feet and shook her hair out, then pointed a finger at him.

"You," she said, "are just putting off the inevitable."

She didn't give him time to respond, not that he really had anything he wanted to say. She sauntered in the house, sliding the door shut behind her.

Now it was just him and Dad, and he couldn't bring himself to look the old man in the eye. Neither of them spoke, which was par for the course, but it was an awkward silence, that something would have to break eventually.

He was stupid. He should have lied, and told Ino she was wrong. Ino wouldn't tell Temari, but she'd tell everyone else, including his mother, and then it would be all over. Of all the dumb predicaments a guy could get into, being afraid your wife would find out you cared about her had to be the dumbest.

He sneaked a glance at Dad, who was jotting down a few more notes on the paper. He didn't make eye contact, but he cleared his throat and set his paper and pen aside.

"So."

Shikamaru remained silent, but he nodded once in acknowledgment.

"Shougi?" asked Dad.

Relieved, Shikamaru said, "Sure."

* * *

**A/N:** Well...I don't really have any notes other than what was at the top, but I want to say a special thank you to all of my anonymous reviewers, especially rookie, who reviews my stuff all the time, but who I never get to thank personally. Thanks, guys!

Oh, and by the way, I don't know if y'all have see the spoilers for 453, but...squeeee!

Thanks for reading, and please review! :D


	6. Uninvited

**Chapter Six**

**Uninvited**

"Why is he so dense?"

"Who? Shikamaru?"

"Of course. Is it just because he's a boy? Are all boys this dense?"

"I dunno."

"If you were in love with a girl, would you keep it to yourself?"

"I-"

"I mean, he loves her, Chouji, but he won't tell her. And he doesn't even _act_ like a guy in love. But I think he and Temari could actually be happy if he wasn't so...so..."

"Dense?"

"Yes. Exactly."

"Well, I don't know. I don't think he's really dense, it's just...you know how he is. Everything has to have a category and a label. He doesn't like mysteries because he has to understand everything. And Temari is probably really mysterious to him. So it's easier to just label her 'wife' and put her in a category. I think right now she's in the 'People I'm Responsible For' category. There's a _lot_ of people there, by the way."

"Okay."

"And love...that's even more mysterious. I'm sure he thinks he knows what love is: caring about someone, not wanting them to die...that sort of thing. But as far as really falling in love...admitting to himself that _he_ needs Temari and trying to deal with all the confusing emotions involved...yeah, I can see him trying to ignore that part. He can't control it and he can't understand it. Nobody can. But nobody would hate that as much as Shikamaru."

"Chouji."

"Yeah?"

"That's the smartest thing I've ever heard you say."

"Really?"

"Definitely."

"Oh. Want a chip?"

"Er...no, thanks.

**O O O**

The shougi game was over too quickly, in the sense that Shikamaru was obliterated before he even had a decent strategy in place, but as far as dinner was concerned they were done just in time. Dinner was even more hectic than usual, for a couple of reasons: the first was that Kakashi was there, which added another voice and an air of excited interest to the table. The second was that dinner was _continuously_ interrupted by friends, neighbors, and, quite frankly, people Shikamaru had never met stopping by to get the story of what had happened at the Office of the Hokage. Oddly, Temari didn't do much talking during these times; from his position across the table he could see that she'd plastered something of a diplomatic smile on her face, and any time a question was asked directly of her she deftly answered in such a way that Shikamaru was left to fill in the majority of the details. But he could see the frustration in her eyes, and he had a pretty good feeling that she was choosing being likable over being brutally honest in her opinion of Danzo, and venting her anger. It was the right choice, but he couldn't help but get a little nervous about it. Her pressure was obviously rising, and he had a notion that he knew who would be the unfortunate victim when she finally did pop.

By the time dinner hour had passed, very little progress had been made in the way of eating. Shikamaru's food had gone cold long ago, and he pushed it around his plate with his chopsticks, before finally giving up and leaning back in his chair with a sigh. He glanced at Kakashi, a little disappointed. At first, he'd been sure that Kakashi would be forced to take off his mask at some point to eat, thus putting to end the speculation that he, Ino and Chouji had engaged in on numerous occasions since first being introduced to him. But coincidence seemed to have removed that opportunity, because Kakashi had had as few chances to eat as the rest of them. His food lay untouched on his plate.

No one at the table had made any mention of Kakashi's mask, or questioned his eating habits; there was something of an unspoken rule in Konoha, almost a taboo, about broaching that topic with the man himself. Of course, it didn't stop the endless gossip behind his back, nor, apparently, did such a taboo extend to citizens of the Suna persuasion. Because as soon as everyone had given up on their cold dinners, and the last neighbor had gone home, Temari, in typical Temari fashion, went treading right over any and all personal boundaries. Just like last night, she went straight for the jugular; this time Kakashi's instead of Dad's.

"You're going to have to take that off, you know," she said.

There was abrupt and total silence at the table, as everyone looked from Temari to Kakashi without trying to seem like they were staring. No one was confused about who she was talking to, or what she was talking about, and although no one would have said it themselves they couldn't help but hang on the quiet, waiting for an answer. Kakashi, however, didn't miss a beat.

"I can't," he said.

"Why not?"

He reached up and held the metal badge of his forehead protector between two fingers, his eye crinkling. "It's part of the uniform."

There was some light, uncomfortable chucking at his dodge, but Shikamaru could sense the slow release of tension. Temari's eyes narrowed, her mouth opened, but she surprised Shikamaru by closing it again and letting Kakashi's reluctance to address this particular issue slide. Still, she caught Shikamaru's gaze and held it. They were going to talk about this later. He nodded.

Dinner ended uneventfully, and afterward Temari dragged Shikamaru outside to accompany her while she trained. Dad insisted on sending Inoichi and Chouza with them to keep an eye on them; he refused to let either of them be out of sight for any length of time. But Temari abandoned them on the back porch and kept pulling Shikamaru until they were near Mom's plum trees, in visual range, but out of direct earshot. She had her fans; training was clearly her ultimate goal, but before that she attacked Shikamaru with her concerns about Kakashi.

"_What_ is the deal with the mask?" she asked.

"He always wears it. I don't think it's up for negotiation."

"Well, it needs to be. The citizens of Konoha aren't going to follow a hokage who keeps himself hidden. How can they trust him?"

He started to argue with her, but after thinking about it for a minute he realized she was right. It was easy, from his position as someone who had fought with Kakashi, to ignore the mask in favor of the soldier underneath it. But Konoha's citizens, especially the largely uninformed civilian populace, wouldn't have that experience with him. And it wasn't possible that between Dad and Kakashi they hadn't figured that out.

"He'll take it off, then. It'll be weird, seeing him without it."

"Yeah," she said, "but then they'll have a hokage they don't know at all."

"That's still better than Danzo."

"I guess," she said, then she abruptly changed tracks. "I can't take this any more. I'm too..._argh_. I need to destroy something."

"Can you do me a favor and destroy Mom's trees? I'm getting tired of watering them."

She smirked. "Nice try. Your mom actually _likes_ me. I'm not going to be the one with their blood on my hands."

He couldn't help but smile at the image of Temari standing flushed and triumphant over the corpses of a dozen murdered plum trees. Kind of like their fight with that Sound woman, but on a miniature scale. "Don't you mean sap?"

She snorted and started off down the hill. "You're the sap."

He could hear her chuckling as she walked away, and it was a welcomed sound. Come to think of it, she hadn't laughed at all since he'd first seen her in Suna, not a real, honest laugh. They'd all been bitterly sarcastic, or staged for the benefit of someone else. But this one had heart in it, and it hit him strangely, sinking into his whole body, felt rather than heard. Maybe it was because it was so unexpected. Maybe because, only a few days ago, he'd been doubtful that he would ever hear her give a genuine laugh again.

Soon she was at the bottom of the hill, stretching her arms and shoulders, going through the motions of retrieving her fans without actually removing them from the holster, and Shikamaru had to turn and walk back toward the house, out of range of her attacks. He had some training of his own to do anyway, as repugnant as it was. He hadn't had any serious, focused training in almost two weeks, and he could feel how much weaker he'd gotten, physically more than anything. As much as he hated it, he needed to exercise. It was the aspect of training he liked the least, and not just because he had to move around to do it. Unlike mental fortification, or improving his concentration, the benefits gained by physical training were quickly lost if one was not able to keep it up on a daily basis. And he wasn't the kind of guy to challenge himself to lift more and more weight, or crank out more push-ups, or run more miles. It was just something that he maintained for the sake of maintenance, and that was boring. But he didn't have a choice. Whether or not he used much taijutsu in battle, the amount of chakra he was able to mold was directly proportional to his physical energy. His stamina. And his chakra reserves were low enough as it was, compared to his teammates. In other words, no exercise, no shadow control.

It wasn't fair.

But, that's why, while Temari was doing her best to strip every tree in the backyard except for the plum ones, Shikamaru was face down in the grass, sandals chucked off to the side, doing push-ups until he thought his arms would snap. He'd been lazy too long; his arms were overcompensating for his chest, like they did when he was a kid. Not only that, but he got no where near the triple digit mark before he collapsed and rolled onto his back, gasping through his minor heart attack.

Inoichi's hoots and Chouza's rolling chuckle could be heard from the back porch. Did they really _have_ to be out here?

"That's it?" Inoichi yelled, his voice probably carrying right into the village. "What did you eat for dinner, bricks?"

There wasn't enough air in his lungs to retort that he'd eaten the same thing Inoichi had, which was nothing.

"There's a girl nearby," he said to Chouza. "You think that would be better motivation."

Chouza rumbled an agreement.

"Hey, Shikamaru," said Inoichi. "I'll bet you twenty bucks that your wife can do more push-ups than you."

"That would be a stupid bet," Temari called, from way downhill.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, because I'm not a performing monkey."

Inoichi and Chouza both laughed, like a couple of overgrown kids.

Shikamaru lay there for a while, resting, panting, listening to Temari shout orders at her fans, waiting for his heart to decelerate. Her voice cut off, and he could hear her trudging through the piles of dead leaves back up the hill. Probably going to angle her attacks toward the paddocks, just to be safe with Mom's trees. Good idea.

When he felt a little better he flipped back over, pushed up onto hands and toes, and went at it again. It was easy enough at first, but after the first fifteen things got a lot more difficult. Heat was spreading through his shoulders and chest, and his muscles were starting to feel like jelly: not resistant enough to support his body. Worst of all, Inoichi and Chouza were calling out his count, which was irritating and distracting.

"Eighteen! Nineteen! Twenty!"

A pair of sandaled feet came into view. Temari. Maybe she _wasn't_ changing angles.

"Are they always like this?"

Well, no, they weren't usually _this_ bad, but they had their moments. Times when they seemed to forget that they were supposed to be the parental generation and treated him like a kouhai. But he was concentrating too hard to explain all that to Temari, so he just nodded his head.

"Twenty-six! Twenty-seven! Twenty-eight!"

"Lucky you," she said.

Nod.

"Thirty! Thirty-one!"

He kept going, Temari's feet in front of him the whole time. He tried to ignore it, but he couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious with her standing there. As if Inoichi and Chouza taunting him wasn't bad enough.

"Come on! You look like my grandma!" That was Inoichi.

"Put a plate of brownies under him." That was Chouza.

"That would only work for you," said Inoichi. "Forty-two! Forty-three!"

"What does Shikamaru like, then?"

"Good question. Clouds? Shougi? Sleeping late?"

"Long walks on the beach? Forty-nine! Fifty!"

"Newborn puppies."

"The smell of the rain."

"Just cuddling!"

"Ikebana."

"Very funny. You need some new jokes, Chou."

Chouza laughed. "Fifty-eight! Fifty-nine!"

"Think he's gonna give out?"

"I think so. Look at his elbows wobbling."

Curses came unbidden to Shikamaru's lips, but he kept them under his breath. Intellectually, he knew this was the way guys encouraged each other. In reality, though, it made him want to break something. He tried to focus his annoyance and adrenaline into keeping his elbows stiff.

"Seventy! Got another thirty in ya, kid?"

No, I have _no_ more in me. I'm not sure how my body is still moving.

But he did keep moving, and soon he'd made it to where he'd had to quit before, at eight-two. There weren't many times that he could say he'd gone farther on his second set than his first, but Inoichi's and Chouza's jeers were making him angry enough to keep pushing. But _why_ was Temari still standing there? Didn't she have trees to demolish?

"Eight-eight! Eighty-nine! What do you know, I think he's gonna make it."

Shikamaru didn't think so. His arms were shaking, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut against his own sweat. His teeth were gritted, jaw aching because of it. The muscles in his arms were screaming. His chest was on fire, his heart hammering painfully inside his ribs.

"Ninety! No, you can't stop now. What will the wife think?"

He didn't care what Temari thought, and he was sorely tempted to give up right now, just to prove that. He wasn't out to impress her; she probably _could_ do more push-ups than him. After all, she wielded that fan all day.

"Ninety-two! Ninety...three!"

But he needed to keep going. He needed to get back in shape, so he wouldn't be weak and useless when the time came to fight, and that time would surely come. Probably soon. No time to waste.

"Ninety-six!"

He needed every bit of stamina he could force out.

"Ninety-seven!"

He would never forgive himself if his shadow faltered three seconds too early, just because he'd given in three push-ups too soon.

"Ninety-eight! Call a medic; I think he's gonna need one."

A stream of curses was running through his mind now, the most vile thoughts he could come up with repeated over and over in a kind of prayer to whatever evil god helped people find enough energy to break themselves.

"Ninety-nine!"

One-left-one-left-one-left-one-left-one-left...

"One hundred!"

He dropped like a rock, right onto his face in the dirt. He couldn't breathe, and when he did finally manage to inhale the air was full of dust from the ground and made him choke and cough, his head swimming. Death could come now, and that would be perfect timing.

He could vaguely hear Inoichi and Chouza having a laughing fit on the porch, and Inoichi called out, "two minutes until the next set!"

"Shut up," Shikamaru croaked, right into the ground. But they didn't miss it, and it only made them laugh harder. Harassed if you didn't make it, harassed if you did. There was no justice.

"Shikamaru."

He rolled himself onto his back. Temari's head was just a silhouette, the sun too bright around her too make out her features, but he could tell that she was staring down at him. And...Shikamaru? When had that happened?

She dropped something, white and flat, onto his chest. An envelope. "Your mom brought that for you," she said.

Oh. She'd just been waiting for him to be done so she could pass on the mail. Of course.

She folded her legs and sat down in the grass beside him, watching. "Want me to open it?" she asked.

He shook his head slightly. He could get it...as soon as he remembered how to work his fingers.

"Sure about that? It's from Danzo."

His eyes popped open. The weight of the envelope suddenly felt like an entire dictionary on his chest, and he reached up with one hand to grab it.

"Why didn't you say that before?" he asked. His voice still sounded strained.

She shrugged. "You were busy."

Still on his back, he tore open the flap and pulled out a letter, then unfolded it. He read it to himself, then handed it to Temari.

_Shikamaru,_

_There are some inaccuracies that need to be cleared up regarding your marriage. Report to my office at nine a.m._

_Rokudaime Hokage_

"Rokudaime Hokage," she said, obviously unimpressed. "This is probably just a trap."

"Maybe, maybe not" said Shikamaru. "We'll find out tomorrow." In actuality, the odds of it being a trap were very high. Danzo's office was private, it was an order Shikamaru couldn't legitimately refuse, and it would be a fairly convenient way for Danzo to get rid of his problem once and for all. It would be a desperate, obvious move, but for a man who held no qualms about denying a marriage that had substantial public support, a small murder in his building wouldn't be much to worry about. Politically, anyway.

"How do you think he'll do it?" Temari asked. "Kill us himself, in his office? Or have one of his Root lackeys take care of it in the hall?"

"Not _us_," he said. "Me."

"What?"

He held out the torn envelope to her, pointing to where _Nara Shikamaru_ was inscribed on the back. "Your name isn't on this, remember? You're not invited."

She reddened. "That doesn't mean _anything_, except that Danzo's trying to exclude me. It's not going to work."

"Yes, it is. You're not going."

She stared at him, nostrils flared.

"If it is a trap," Shikamaru said, "then there's no point in both of us getting killed. The marriage is dead either way."

"Don't be stupid," she said. "If there are two of us there, we're less likely to go down."

"I'm not being stupid, I'm being reasonable. If Danzo wants us dead us in his office, we're dead. One or two doesn't matter."

"Then why doesn't he just kill us and get it over with!"

"He can't, out here. There are too many people watching us. But the entire Anti-Danzo faction can't go with us into that building. So, no."

Temari jumped to her feet and stomped away. He could hear scraps of the sentences she was muttering under her breath, and none of them gave him any confidence that she was about to give in to him. When she got to the plum trees, she turned and stomped back, looking even more annoyed than before. She crossed her arms and glared down at him.

"First, not to sound too much like a bratty teenager, but you're not my boss. I outrank you. Second, I absolutely refuse to sit around here while my husband marches into Danzo's office and gets himself killed. Third, it makes more sense for _me_ to go than for you to go, because if Danzo murders me, then Suna will string him up. He knows that, and that's why he didn't mention me. I'm going."

"It makes _no_ sense for you to go, because you're not the one Danzo wants to see."

"We're going to be unified, whether or not Danzo chooses to recognize that. I'm going."

"Temari..." He knew all this. He knew what she was saying, and he grasped the logic behind it. He even _agreed_ with her. But nothing could change the fact that he couldn't stand the thought of her being face-to-face with Danzo. Or anywhere near him. He just...couldn't.

But she was right about the fact that he held no authority over her, unless you counted the authority of husband over wife, which, apparently, Temari did not.

"You vowed to serve me," he said.

"You vowed to serve _me. _Got anything else?"

Stupid nondiscriminatory oaths.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" he asked.

"Nope."

He sighed and sat up, putting his sandals back on. Temari was leaving him with no choice. There was a still a way out of this, but he needed to talk to Dad as soon as possible.

When he was on his feet, he looked Temari in the eye and made his position clear, one last time.

"_You_ are _not_ going."

It wasn't an order. It was a promise. And although fury flashed blue and green in her eyes, she said nothing in response.

**O O O**

Temari kept her thoughts to herself for the rest of the evening. She finished her training, took a bath, then headed off to bed early. She wanted to be well-rested for the meeting with Danzo because, no matter what Shikamaru said, she was going. He had no authority to prevent her, and she wasn't going to let him get himself killed because of his misplaced machismo. Absolutely not.

But when she walked into their bedroom she was irked to find Shikamaru already there, sitting up in bed and scribbling in a notebook. His narrowed eyes flicked to hers for a second, but he went back to his writing without speaking. That was perfectly fine with Temari; she didn't have anything new to say to him, anyway. He knew how she felt.

And of course. Of course he would get bossy with her now, when things were just starting to become...tolerable. Kind of normal. When their interactions were beginning to remind her more of the ones in the old days, before the wedding, when there hadn't been any pressure to be anything more than comrades. They'd been almost friends, then. Equals, certainly, and she'd felt plenty comfortable enough to tease and torment him the way she did with Kankuro or the guys on her squad or even, on rare occasion, Gaara. Bothering him had always been particularly fun, mostly because of how he arrogantly pretended that he didn't care. Knocking men down a peg was such an amusing activity.

But now she felt more like knocking him _out. _And it was probably that sentiment that pushed her to behave in slightly more petty manner than she might have on a normal day. Turning her back on Shikamaru, she folded down her bed covers, tossed a handful of hair ties onto her nightstand so they'd be waiting for her in the morning, then leaned over to the wall switch and flipped it off.

"Hey!" he said.

She ignored him and slithered between her sheets, getting comfortable. His irritated voice came to her through the dark.

"I need that light to _see_."

"Well I need it _off_, so I can sleep. That's what people do when it's dark outside."

"Come on, Temari. Turn it back on."

"No. I'm tired. Your pigheadedness has worn me out."

There was a loud, theatrical sigh, the sound of sheets rustling, then feet stomping across the floor. Abruptly she was bathed in light again, and she blinked to see him glaring at her, his hand still on the light switch.

"Now, leave it alone," he said.

She lay there, sheets pulled up to her nose, until he was settled in bed and writing. Once she was certain that he was absorbed in what he was doing, she crawled to the end of the bed and turn it off again.

"Temari! You're acting like a three-year-old!"

"I can be more mature about this, if you want," she said. "I can throw you out and lock the door."

Sighing, feet stomping, bright light.

"This is important," he said. "I need to go over some things and tonight is the only time I can. You can sleep late tomorrow, if you're that tired. It's not even eight, yet."

She moved to the end of the bed again, trying to reach the light, but he was covering the whole plate with his hand.

"I can_not_ sleep late tomorrow, because I'm going with you to meet with Danzo, and we both need to rest, in case we have to fight." She grabbed his wrist and yanked at it, but he didn't budge. "Now _move_ _your hand_."

"No. Just pull the blanket over your head like you always do. You won't even notice the light."

"But I'll know it's on."

"Then go sleep with Ino."

"No! _You_ go do your writing somewhere else! It's rude to insist on using the sleeping space for working."

"It's _my_ room!"

"It's _our_ room!"

"You know what? I really don't have time for this right now." He stomped some more, this time toward his bed, and grabbed his notebook, pen, and a stack of books from the nightstand, juggling it all in one arm. Then he walked to the door and yanked it open. "As much fun as it would be to stay here and argue with you all night, I actually have things I need to be doing. Enjoy your sleep."

Her retort of, "Oh, I _will_," was punctuated by the sound of the door slamming. Victorious, she slapped the light switch down with her palm and flopped into bed, grousing to herself.

Listen at him slam the door like a baby. Like he's making some sort of point. All he did was go somewhere else to work, which was exactly what I wanted him to do. Bonehead.

She got back under the covers and settled in, indeed pulling them over her head. She'd never thought about it until he mentioned it, but she'd always slept that way. Totally covered. It was probably because of how dry the air was in Suna, and now it was just a habit. But it bothered her that he was learning these little things about her, things few other people knew, things she hardly had call to notice herself; in essence, getting to know her the way a spouse would. But it meant nothing to him. She could imagine that he had a partition in his head labeled "Temari's Quirks" where he filed random information about her, and retrieved it only when necessary, to make a point or win an argument. But only because that was what he _did_: took note of everyone and everything around him, analyzed it, assimilated it, and then, if possible, used the information in some strategy. And it disturbed Temari that her personal details had become useful to him as weapons against her. It made her wonder what other weapons she might be giving him, and the thought was a worrisome one.

But she couldn't afford to spend the night worrying, or stewing in anger, or thinking about him at all. She needed to get as much rest as possible. Both of their lives might depend on it tomorrow.

It was a noble thought. Unfortunately, her determination wasn't enough. She tossed in her bed, twisting in the sheets, flipping her pillow over now and then to get to the cool side, but still sleep evaded her. And when she finally did drift off, sometime after the hour on the glowing digital clock had gone from double digits to single, Shikamaru's bed was still empty beside her.

**O O O**

It took Temari a while to convince herself to face the sunlight in the morning, as unrested as she was after last night. And when she finally pushed her blankets off of her head, she saw something that surprised her: Shikamaru's bed was still unoccupied. She lay there for a moment, wondering. Had he never come to bed last night? Had he gone to sleep somewhere else out of anger, or passed out at his work space? The bed looked the same as it had the night before; she didn't think he'd ever been in it.

A sneaking suspicion was coming over her, and she looked quickly at the clock.

Eight. It was already _eight_.

She had to claw her way through the sheets to get out of bed, then she dashed around it to lock the door. She didn't have time to go to the bathroom to change; she'd just have to do it right here.

She ripped her pajamas off and started digging through her bag, trying to find something she could put on quickly, finally dumping the contents onto her bed to make it easier. She found a pair of fishnet shorts and a short, sleeveless dress with a wide sash that would have to be good enough. She should have known that he would do something like this. He'd probably provoked her on purpose to have an excuse to sleep somewhere else, and may even have figured on her resting poorly over it and waking up late. That conniving, manipulative..._man_.

She had trouble getting her shorts on, accidentally putting both feet into one leg before tearing them off and starting over. Then she shoved her arms through the dress, folded it over in front, and tied it in place, and just grabbed her hair ties and slipped them onto her wrist for later. His strategy had failed, this time. She'd gotten up in time, and even if he'd left early she should still be able to catch up to him.

Not good enough, Nara.

She flew down the stairs, actually making it past the dining room before registering what she'd seen: Shikamaru, sitting at the table with Ino and Chouji. She turned on her heel and backtracked until she was facing him, unable to miss the fact that he was already in uniform and eating breakfast. Mister Wait-Until-The-Last-Possible-Minute-To-Do-_Anything_.

She put her hands on her hips and stared at him, until he finally glanced listlessly up from his rice and egg.

"Nice try," she said.

"Huh?"

"If you think you can sneak out without me, you've got another think coming."

"What are you talking about?"

He looked genuinely confused, and it raised doubts in Temari's mind. Now that she was really studying him, she realized that he didn't look 'ready to go' at all. He was slouched back in his chair, vest unzipped and hanging loose, eyes dark and tired. No, he didn't look ready to start a long, hard day. He looked like he'd just finished one.

"But..." she said, trying to make sense of it, "I thought...I mean, you didn't come to bed last night...and..."

His face changed. It was still tired, but now there was something distinctly self-satisfied about it, almost smug, one corner of his mouth turned up.

"I wasn't going to sneak out on you," he said. "That wouldn't even have worked."

"Well...of course not," she said.

He leaned the chair back until he bumped the wall, crossing his fingers behind his head. "You would have just followed me. Right?"

"Right."

He smiled, and it gave Temari the chills. It was _that_ smile. The smile that said he'd put a strategy into motion, and was just waiting for everyone else to figure out what he already knew: that he'd won.

"What's going on?" she asked. Her voice came out a lot quieter than she had intended. "Where have you been?"

"I had a meeting."

"With Danzo?"

"He couldn't make it."

Lost, she looked over at Ino and Chouji, but neither seemed inclined to meet her gaze. So she turned back to Shikamaru, anger warming her face.

"Are you going to tell me what you did, or are the three of you just having too much fun keeping me in the dark?

"They don't have anything to do with this," he said. "And I'm too tired to be having fun at your expense."

"So...then-"

"I took the jounin exam this morning."

She froze, astounded by the announcement. One that she never would have predicted.

"You did _what_?"

"Or last night. Whatever."

"But...how could you...why would they...there's no way Danzo would..."

"Danzo didn't have to do anything," he said. "His permission isn't necessary, as long as you have the support of eight of the eleven members of the council. Which I do."

"But..."

"And I _think_ something must have happened to the scroll notifying him that his participation at the panel was requested. Because he didn't show up." He smirked in a very superior way. Temari wanted to punch him.

"So...you just _decided_ to take the exam, in the middle of the night, and all the council members came, and you just _happened_ to pass?"

"A Konoha chuunin's first request to take the exam has to be honored, no matter when it is. And, yes, I passed. Is it supposed to be hard?"

She'd never seen him so arrogant, not even when he'd beaten her at the chuunin exam. It was a disconcerting thing to behold. She floundered, completely caught off-guard...and that's when her eyes fell on a rectangular plastic bag on the chair beside him, its contents navy blue. His uniform.

She shook her head. "If it was so easy for you, why didn't you-"

"I've never wanted the rank, Temari. I would have been happy being a chuunin for the rest of my life. Who needs the bureaucracy? The paperwork? But you took away all my options."

He stood up, grabbing his uniform out of the chair, and strode over until he was facing her. His eyes were still dark, still tired. But they were completely unyielding.

"While I go to Danzo's office today, you're staying here. That's an order."

Something dropped like lead to the bottom of her stomach. He couldn't. He could _not_ do this to her. But everyone of her arguments fell flat before she could utter them, because she knew he was well within his rights. They might both be jounin, but Shikamaru outranked her by virtue of the fact that he was a Konoha citizen, and she was not. She still fell under the laws of borrowed shinobi.

He'd won. He wouldn't have sneaked out on her; of course not. Sneaking out wasn't good enough. It wouldn't have resulted in her complete and total defeat.

"So you took the jounin exam, became a _permanent_ jounin, just so that you could boss me around?"

"I did it because I don't want Danzo to kill you. Try not to look at it so negatively."

"Shikamaru-"

"But I need to go upstairs and get ready." He held out his plastic-wrapped uniform and scowled at it. "Gotta put _this_ on, I guess. We'll have to talk more later."

He trudged up the stairs, no trace of the arrogant dictator remaining. In fact, he walked as if he was going to the gallows. And she was still staring at the empty upstairs hall when she heard him close the bathroom door.

It was Ino's voice that snapped her back to the present, and the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

"Chouji, you're a genius."

She dropped her napkin onto her plate and headed for the backyard, leaving Chouji wide-eyed and slightly agape.

"What did you do?" asked Temari. "Predict that he would turn suicidal?"

He shrugged and shook his head, although the effect was less one of confusion and more of non-committing.

Temari sank into the chair beside Chouji, at a loss as to what to do. Or even how to feel. She knew she should be furious that Shikamaru was pulling this tyrannical crap on her, but she was too shocked to be mad. He'd blindsided her with his brashness; of course, looking back on it, it was the only logical move he could have made in order to win. But this wasn't a game. This was life or death. And now _his_ life was in far more danger than it would have been otherwise. Stupid, stupid man.

And hadn't she done everything that was expected of her? Hadn't she married him? Hadn't she moved to Konoha to live with him? Wasn't she doing her best to ignore her impulses to hunt Danzo down and kill him herself, or to cuss him to every neighbor that came by to tsk-tsk about his unfair treatment of her, because Shikamaru had told her to control her temper? And now he wasn't even going to grant her the dignity of standing beside him when he faced Danzo. Or fighting beside him. Or _dying_ beside him, if that's what it came to. So why did she come to Konoha at all? She could have become a widow just as easily in Suna.

She wanted to scream. Yell. Break something. Attack someone. Tear down enough of the surrounding forest to double Konoha's acreage. And she needed to. She needed to vent this stress that was boiling and threatening to spill over, but she couldn't. She didn't have time right now. Right now she had to figure out something, anything that she could say to Shikamaru to change his infuriatingly, insufferably stubborn mind, before he ended up dead.

What she needed was expert advice. And knowing the expert, she would be in the kitchen.

She jumped out of her chair, leaving Chouji to his breakfast, and pushed through the simple curtain that separated the kitchen from the dining room. There was the expert herself, doing something with food. Using a cheese grater, but for a brown, wrinkly thing instead of cheese. How strange.

"Yoshino-san?"

The woman looked up and smiled, but it was distracted and half-hearted.

"Good morning, Temari-chan."

"Are you okay?"

Yoshino gave a shaky laugh. "I'm as well as can be expected, I suppose."

"Did you hear all that?"

"Oh, I heard it. But I got it from my husband first, when I woke up."

"And what does he think about this?"

Yoshino swallowed, her eyes filling with tears that clung to her lashes, but didn't fall. "He gave Shikamaru's promotion his full support. He thinks it was a great idea."

Temari's heart sank.

"But I don't suppose I need to tell you that _I'd_ be much happier if you were with my son today."

Temari nodded. "So? What do I do?"

"You're asking me?"

"Sure," Temari said. "I've seen the way you handle those two. You must have some idea how I can get him to change his mind."

Yoshino's eyes widened. "I don't know if 'handle' is the right term. It's more like I strategically choose which battles I think I can win. At least, that's how it is with Shikamaru, but those battles have gotten fewer and fewer in the last couple of years. And it's more complicated with my husband."

"How so?"

"Well..." Yoshino leaned back over the grater. "It's hard to explain. I know we give the impression that I'm the controlling one, but there's a fair amount of give and take, there. Like with Shikamaru, there are areas of my husband's life that he doesn't really care if he controls or not. Coincidentally or not, those things tend to be more public. The clothes he wears, how the bills are paid, that kind of thing, so all most people ever see is him giving in, but only because those things didn't matter to him in the first place. But when he gets a mind to do something, he becomes absolutely intractable. At such times, I usually find it's better if I say nothing at all. There's no point in wasting my energy. I sometimes think that Shikaku feels the same way about me. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah..."

"But, every now and then, Shikaku gets stubborn about something that I'm also passionate about, and you'd better believe there's conflict." She stopped, and put what was left of the brown vegetable down on the cutting board. "There's been a lot of that recently."

Temari could understand that. A father's use of his son as a political tool, versus a mother's fear for her child.

"So, what do you do then?"

Yoshino walked to the sink and began washing her hands. "When Shikaku gets stubborn about something, and I truly believe that he's wrong, and that the consequences of his decision will be irrevocably detrimental, I do what all women do, only they do it far too often, which lessens the effect and makes them easy to figure out: I side-step him. I find the weakness in his plan and I exploit it. And I do it with my conscious clear. I don't make it a habit to flout his authority, but men have wives for a reason. And I sometimes think it's to save them from their own dumb mistakes. To be sure, Shikaku has saved me from my share of mine."

"Well, this isn't authority I _can_ flout. Shikamaru's orders are binding on me, and there's nothing I can do about that."

"Dear, I've been there. I was a chuunin married to a jounin. And if you think he didn't use that to his advantage, you're fooling yourself."

Just for a second, something twinkled in her eyes, and Temari could only imagine what was going on behind them. But she was glad she didn't have Yoshino's problem, twinkle or no; at least she wouldn't have to worry about being subordinate to Shikamaru militarily for too long. Once she finally became a citizen, she'd be even with him again.

But Yoshino's twinkle was quickly snuffed out by anxiety. "Temari-chan," she said, "you married a smart man. But I think, when he met you, that he met his match. And as far as my son goes, the task of determining his strengths and weaknesses, of figuring him out..." She smiled sadly. "...well, that task is no longer mine."

Temari sighed. It was what she'd been hoping for, that Yoshino would let go of Shikamaru, rather than try and control them both. But she couldn't help but wish that she would have waited just a little longer. Like, until tomorrow.

"But I have to say that it's very important to me that you be there." Yoshino's eyes were full again, and this time a tear did escape, then another, rolling down her cheek until she swiped at them with the back of one hand.

"It's important to me, too."

Yoshino nodded. "Maybe you should tell him that."

Temari laughed once, incredulously. "I _did_ tell him that! He knows I don't want him to go alone. He's my husband, and I'm a soldier. My place is fighting with him, not waiting at home like a good little housewife." Then she realized what she'd said, and she cringed. "No offense."

"No, I know what you mean, and I've been _there_ too. I'm not going to pretend that it's easy. You can take the kunoichi out of the fight, but you can't take the fight out of the kunoichi. Or so they say."

Yeah, Temari had heard that one before. It was usually used as a crude reference to the way kunoichi behaved in bed, or at least the way men liked to believe they did. But she could see that it applied here, too.

She had more questions, more things she was concerned about, but she could hear heavy footfalls on the stairs, and a glance at the wall clock made it clear that she was out of time. She had to figure out a way to change his mind, or get around him, and she only had five minutes to do it.

She headed back into the dining room, looking straight ahead despite the fact that she really didn't want to see him in his stupid jounin uniform. She got it; he was her boss now. Visual confirmation of that was only going to make her angrier.

Chouji was gone, leaving behind a bowl so empty it looked clean. And there was Shikamaru, frowning and scratching the back of his neck, his legs wrapped to the shins, black pants and shirt traded for the standard-issue navy blue ones. The new, blue clothes were starched and stiff, providing a direct contrast with his faded old vest. There were red, circular patches on his upper arms, and it brought Temari's attention to the thing that was missing.

"Where's your forehead protector?"

He reached into a pocket and produced it, tossing it onto the table. "This shirt is itchy," he said with a grimace.

"Never mind that," Temari said. "You need to put your forehead protector on."

"I don't know what to do with it. I'm not allowed to cover the patches."

"Put it on your thigh," she said.

"I tried that. It gets in the way when I'm reaching for my shuriken."

"Then put the pouch on your hip."

"I don't like it there. I'm used to having it lower."

Then put the forehead protector on the _other_ thigh."

"I don't like that, either. I can feel it when I bend my knee."

"That's ridiculous!"

He shrugged.

"I suppose you could actually wear your forehead protector on your forehead."

His lip curled. "No, thanks."

"Function over fashion," she said.

"It's not fashion I'm worried about. I just don't like things touching my face."

She sighed, exasperated. Not just about the forehead protector, but with everything about him. "_Why_ are you being so difficult?"

He looked mildly surprised by this. "I'm not trying to be difficult, I just don't want to change a bunch of things around right now. The new uniform is going to be enough of a distraction."

"Then, here," she said, standing up and grabbing the forehead protector. "We'll just do it this way. Got any pins?"

In a minute, she had it pinned on the shoulder of his vest, along the arm edge. It looked like a metal cuff.

"It isn't cool," she said, "but it'll work for now."

"No, it's fine," he said. "Thanks."

"Sure you can't feel it _touching_ you?"

"I can, but it's not too bothersome."

"What? How can you possibly feel that?"

He reached up with the opposite hand and flicked at one dangling corner of the bandana.

"Sheesh," she said. "I can't believe how anal you are about your uniform." She adjusted one of the pins so that the material would be tucked under the protector, then glanced up. He was watching her with his eyebrows raised.

"Sometimes it makes all the difference," he said.

These was a lull in the conversation while Temari made sure the forehead protector wouldn't easily come loose, and she knew that it was now or never. She had him right here, and in a minute he'd be walking out the door. Last chance.

"Shikamaru...listen..."

He sighed heavily and pulled his arm out of her grasp, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"No, listen. Just..._listen to me_. I really, really think going in there alone is a mistake. I just...I have a feeling that something bad is going to happen."

"So do I," he said. "Which is why you're staying here."

He plodded to the entryway and began putting on his sandals, and Temari followed him in desperation. She was out of ideas, but she couldn't make herself give up. She couldn't let him leave now and face Danzo alone. He might not come home. They probably wouldn't even get his _body _back.

"_Please_, Shikamaru. I need to be there. If there's a fight, I need to fight. And I don't want you to die, just because you decided to get macho."

"I can't take you, Temari. I'm sorry."

"You mean you _won't_ take me!"

"I can't," he insisted. "I'm not going to be able to focus if I have to worry about someone else."

"You don't have to _worry_ about me!" she shouted. "I'm a jounin, Shikamaru. And I have years of experience on you. I know how to take care of myself. Half the time I end up saving _your_ sorry butt!"

He just watched her wearily.

"And look at you," she said. "Did you sleep last night at all?"

"No."

"You've been up all night, and you're still recharging after your exam. You're in no physical condition to defend yourself."

He was silent, but she knew he was past paying attention. His thoughts were somewhere else, probably in Danzo's office twenty minutes from now. And everything about him infuriated her. His casual dismissal of her opinions. His obstinacy. The fact that his lips were curving into a small smile as he tilted his head toward the door.

"We're probably over-reacting, anyway," he said. "Danzo won't kill me in his office. It would incite too much public disapproval."

"You don't believe that," she said. "You're just holding your breath in the graveyard."

"I need to go," he said. He put his hand on the door knob, and she panicked.

"Wait...wait...just...let me go and wait outside, okay? On the street. And then at least they can keep an eye on me and I can help if something goes wrong. Or I'll know if you make it out okay. All right? Please, just let me do that."

He was facing away, but his back stiffened, the muscles in his neck tightening. "Are you going to fight me like this over every issue for the rest of our lives?"

"What difference does it make?" she said. "Yours will be over in a few minutes anyway!"

"See ya, Temari."

"This isn't just about you, Nara!"

He spun on her, no longer haggard and worn. Now he looked furious. Pushed too far. "I know that!" he said. "I've never thought this was about me! It's about Konoha, and Suna, and keeping them from slaughtering each other! How do you think Suna will feel if I parade you around in front of Danzo and get you killed, huh? What are they going to think?"

"They're going to think Danzo-"

"_No_," he said. "They're going to think the Naras were too careless with you. Look, Danzo doesn't even _want_ you there. How exactly can I use you as a bodyguard when Gaara entrusted _you_ to _me_?"

Temari's mouth hung open...she kept trying to form words but she hardly knew how to refute such an illogical line of thinking.

"Shikamaru, that's crazy! Gaara would never blame _the Naras_ if I was murdered. He's not blind; he knows who's responsible for the evil in Konoha right now."

"It's not that cut-and-dried, Temari."

"You have to take me," she said. "I have to be there with you."

He ignored her and reached for the door knob again, and she grabbed the sleeve of his shirt, trying to pull him away. Then her other hand came up and wrapped around his bicep, and she had him clamped in both hands, and she'd made her decision. Maybe it would be disobeying orders to follow him, but she didn't have to let _him_ go. Not until he'd changed his mind.

"_You're taking me_," she said. "And if we die, we die together."

Except that she wasn't holding onto _him_ anymore. Somehow she'd been pushed back, her fingers wrested from his arm, and now it was _her_ arms pinned to the wall behind her. And his face was right in front of hers, dark and intense and it occurred to her that she didn't even know who this guy was.

"You don't get it," he said, his voice lowering. "You keep talking about _us_ fighting and _us_ dying, but that's not how it works. Someone has to die first. And Danzo's the kind of guy to make sure it's you, just so that he can do it in front of me. Can't you grasp that?"

She stared at him, speechless.

"I am _not_ going to watch you die. And I'm done arguing with you. Be here when I get back."

She recognized that the last was another order, but she couldn't bring herself to voice her assent with him glaring at her so blackly. But he released her arms and, without another word for her, zipped up his vest and walked out the door. And she was left to stand there, again, staring at the space he'd just left. _Again_. And her heart was pounding, adrenaline rushing through her body because she was _angry_ at having been pushed around, and _angry_ at having been pinned, and _angry_ at having been yelled at. And she was furious at _herself_, for being so easily controlled. And for letting him leave, when she knew in her gut that this wasn't going to be just a routine meeting with the Hokage.

But she didn't know what else she could have said to him, that might have made a difference. And she was bound by her oaths and her orders to let her superior sacrifice himself this way, if that's what he chose. She'd lost. She'd failed. And there was nothing else she could do.

Except stay here while he went to Danzo's office.

And be here when he got back.

* * *

**A/N:** Whew! That was a long chapter, I know, but I had quite a bit to cover before things get all crazy in the next one. Sorry about the hiatus, but thank you to everyone for all the kind words and patience. And, as always, thanks to my anonymous reviewers. :) And I have to give credit to Guitta for giving me the tasty image of Shikamaru with his vest unzipped. Link is in my profile. :)

E, para meus leitores brasileiros, realmente aprecio seus comentários e encorajamento. PSI ama vocês! +1 :D

Next chapter: Shikamaru talks with Danzo. And there will be fu-fighting. Oh, yes...fu will occur. Thanks for reading, and please review! I need them to liiiiiive!

* * *

So, I have a couple of non-_Arranged_ things to talk about right now that I've decided you guys need to know about. First of all, consider me slow to keep up with all the cool Shika/Tema news, but I just recently stumbled across this Paku Romi/Morikubo Shoutarou duet, "Voice For You." If you don't know, those are the Japanese voice actors that portray Temari and Shikamaru, respectively. Um...let me be very clear. I am a _huge_ J-Pop nerd. I'm a gushingly geeky fan of Morikubo's music. I love his rapping (hello, Naruto Ondo) and I love his singing (Lazy Mind)...I even dig his more traditional stuff. But, y'all, I can _not_ make it all the way through "Voice For You." I don't know why that is, but I get so embarrassed when I'm listening to it that my face literally starts to burn and I have to turn it off. Maybe it's because I was forced to acknowledge the fact that Romi and Shoutarou actually know each other in real life, and they know all about my geeky, desperate shipping, and they actually have a song that caters to it. Maybe it's because I can't imagine Temari and Shikamaru singing a duet together. Maybe it's because, as far as I can make out with my mediocre Japanese skills, the song is actually sung _in character_ and the lyrics actually refer to Temari and Shika which means I'm forced to picture Shikamaru _actually_ rapping to Temari. *shudder* I can't...I can't...my face is getting hot as I type, and it's not because I'm turned on. I keep listening to it, trying to force myself to listen to a few more seconds each time, like some kind of endurance training. I'm not saying it's a bad song or anything, just that it apparently strikes a weak point I didn't even know I had.

Second, I am so glad to see Temari without her poncho. Her clothes are much sexier than I thought before. Go get him, girl!

Alrighty, I'm done...um...heh...blogging, I guess. Sorry about that. Review! :D

-PSI


	7. Undone, Part One

**Chapter Seven**

**Undone, Part One**

**Shikamaru**

"We received a transmission from Shikaku-san this morning."

"Really."

"He's requested that our army be outside Konoha in six days."

"I guess everything's working out on his end, then."

"I suppose so."

"Think Temari's cracked, yet?"

**O O O**

Shikamaru waited until he was out of sight of the house before he slipped between two buildings, hidden from the main street, and sank against a wall. He could hear heavy breathing, hissing between clenched teeth, and he was startled to realize that it was coming from himself. And his palms tingled and burned, but when he examined them they looked exactly the same, except that they were clammy now with sweat.

He didn't understand what was happening to him at all. True, he'd been in an altercation with Temari, and conflict frequently caused those involved to switch into a mild form of fight-or-flight. But there was no reason for his body to be overreacting to this degree. He felt almost...panicked. Sick to his stomach.

His fingers were still curled, wrapped around the ghost of Temari's arms. That explained the tingling; he could still feel her biceps there. But, for the burning, there was no explanation.

No excuse for this loss of composure. He was right; she was wrong. He had his plan mapped out to the minute; she couldn't see inside his brain to know that. But she shouldn't _have_ to see inside his brain. She should _know_ by now that he never went off half-cocked. Hadn't she fought him? Hadn't they worked side-by-side in scenarios of all different flavors, from battling common enemies to wrangling inattentive genin? Why would she assume that _now_, when their lives were on the line, that he would throw strategy to the wind and burst into Danzo's office carelessly like...like Naruto? Naruto's "strategy" always seemed to work just fine for him, but Shikamaru had never operated that way.

_I trust you_, she'd said. Lip service. Or maybe she thought she trusted him, or wanted to believe that she could, being so helpless and alienated in Konoha, but her actions belied her true feelings.

He tried to remind himself that he known all along that his orders would make her angry, that she would over-react, but the reality of it was much harder to deal with than the images he'd visualized when he'd been making his plans. Those hadn't been so real...so vivid...never in the concept stage had he lost control of himself to the point where he'd manhandled her. Or come in contact with her at all. But he'd never pictured her carefully pinning his forehead protector to his vest, as if some strange, nurturing woman had possessed her for a moment. And he'd never, never expected that she would go so far as to _grab_ him to keep him from meeting with Danzo alone. That she would find it so easy to disregard his personal boundaries.

He could feel them breaking down. His boundaries, and hers. That should be a good thing, right? Wasn't marriage about learning to be honest with each other, to let down your guard, and all that touchy-feely stuff? And he loved Temari, didn't he? Wasn't that what it meant, that he wanted to keep her safe and have her respect? So shouldn't he appreciate the fact that the lines between them were blurring?

But he didn't. He didn't have a single positive feeling attached to it. Instead, he felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down at the ground, but it was so far away that he couldn't make it out for the fog. And he was doing everything in his power not to topple over, but his equilibrium was failing him, and he couldn't get his balance long enough to take a step back, and he knew that at any moment a strong gust of wind would push him off and he'd begin a nauseating free-fall that would last until he died.

Free-fall. Dizziness. And his palms were still sweating, and his breathing wasn't going back to normal. Man, he didn't have _time_ for this crap. And he couldn't understand this _drive_ he had, to go back in there and find her, to talk to her, to explain everything her so that she wouldn't look at him with those frustrated, incredulous eyes, as if she just couldn't believe that someone as stupid or stubborn as him existed on the planet. No one else looked at him that way anymore, not even Mom. So why was Temari so slow to catch on?

No time. Got a whole new set of problems ahead, and I can't spare any energy. Not for this fight, or Temari's _feelings_...nothing. She'll understand everything eventually, and I'll be vindicated, but in the meantime I have to focus on being focused. In a few minutes I'll be stepping inside the Hokage Building, and then everything will rely on precise timing. And a lot of brilliant acting.

Just...calm..._down_.

He dropped his shoulders and took several deep breaths through his nose. Then, steeled and resolved, he jumped onto the nearest roof and faced village center. He checked his watch; it was 8:40. He'd have to hurry.

Running over the rooftops, it took him sixteen minutes to get to the Hokage Building. That gave him four minutes to stake out the surrounding area before he had to be in Danzo's office. He'd been here dozens of times, of course, and had a mental map burned into his mind, but he'd never had call to view it through defensive lenses before. He wanted to take careful note of every window, every emergency exit, the current position of every person inside, and get a clear idea of which parts of the building could be easily seen from Dad's team outside.

Like its sister next door, the Office of the Hokage, the Hokage Building had an open first floor that consisted mostly of a foyer. Inside were two chuunin secretaries sitting behind a long desk. He could see the restrooms, the meeting room separated from the rest by a wall of glass, and the entrance to the long corridor that led to the stairwell. The stairwell was the most problematic area: it was enclosed, three stories high, and its entrance and exit were invisible from outside. He could conceivably lose five or six minutes in that stairwell before the team outside got worried enough to come in after him. Five or six minutes was long enough that Dad's team couldn't even be considered as back up. It was an eternity.

On the second and third floors, the west-facing walls were also a concern. The HB was butted up so closely against the OH that those windows were merely a formality: there was no way to see inside of them without scaling the wall on the outside and looking directly in. For Shikamaru's purposes, that wasn't very practical.

Probably the most dangerous room in the entire building was Danzo's office, in the sense that it was on the highest floor, at the end of a long series of corridors, and had only west-facing windows. It was logical for the Hokage to be the hardest to reach from outside, and most difficult for spies to see, but Shikamaru had never met a kage who put so much effort into protecting himself. After the airiness and accessibility of Tsunade's office in the old Hokage mansion, Danzo's office felt more like a rat hole. Dark, hidden, and even though the building was brand new, dank and musty.

So it would be an uncomfortable meeting, during which he would be out of sight of anyone who might be watching him for as much time as Danzo saw fit to monopolize. But the reality was that Danzo's office wasn't much of a threat, now that he'd been able to keep Temari at home. Shikamaru had had several encounters with Danzo since the man had become Hokage, both direct and indirect, and he was familiar with his modus operandi. He was the typical conman with a streak of cruelty and a bit of a god-complex, who happened to possess atypical intelligence, not to mention the sharingan. But the most important aspect of Danzo's personality was his unwillingness to involve himself in any questionable activities if he couldn't reassign or avoid the blame, as was obvious with his murders of Koharu and Homura. There _was_ suspicion on Danzo, but the details of the murders had been so vague and convoluted that it would have been impossible to gather enough evidence to convict, or even convincingly point the finger.

No, he wouldn't be attacked by Danzo, at least not up front, and especially not in his office. There wouldn't be anyone else there to blame for it. However, the story would have been completely different had Temari come with him. As he'd explained to her: Danzo only needed to kill one of them to dissolve the political bond between them. And killing one would leave the perfect number left for his scapegoat: one. It was ridiculous, the thought that Shikamaru would kill his own wife in the Hokage Building, or vice versa, but unbelievability had never been an obstacle for Danzo. That was his true talent, not his brains or his sharingan. It was his ability to tell people anything he wanted, and be believed. It was the reason he made such a formidable enemy, and the reason Shikamaru and Temari had had to get married in the first place. People trusted Danzo. And the fact that he hadn't requested Temari's presence would only add to his defense, that having her there hadn't been in his plan at all.

And there was no doubt about which one of them Danzo would take out. Nothing could be more advantageous than having Suna victimized and Kakashi's man responsible for it. Shikamaru wanted to believe that Gaara would be merciful with him, would accept his word over Danzo's. And maybe he would, but at that point it wouldn't matter. Shikamaru would have been turned permanently over to Suna, expatriated, and the Nara influence in Konoha would have dropped to nil. And Temari would be dead.

Shikamaru's thumb rubbed slowly against his index finger. He knew what was missing, the reason for the tick, and he ignored it. He'd been afraid of smoking, afraid that he'd get addicted to the nicotine and never be able to quit. Quitting had turned out to be easy, probably because he'd only smoked for a short time and had hated every minute of it. But what was surprising was the way his body still remembered the _act_, and itched to perform it when he was stressed. Hand to his pocket, fingers to his lips. It was the reason that he'd resolved never to pick up another cigarette.

And he knew what was causing it this time: his thoughts of Temari dying under his command. Memories of Asuma's last words, his last puff, his last breath flashed through Shikamaru's head, except now his face was Temari's, blood pouring from her abdomen and her mouth, choking on it, and this time there would be no Ino to try and save her, and Shikamaru wouldn't even be allowed to be by her side because they would already be dragging him away.

His restless fingers come up to his lips, but he forced them back down. Stuffed his hand into his pocket. Yes, he knew how Danzo would have handled this meeting, if given the opportunity. He knew because it's exactly what _he_ would have done, had he been in Danzo's place.

But without Temari, the real danger would come later, after Danzo had had a chance to probe him. In the halls, or the stairwell. Attacked by someone anonymous, someone who would be expecting him. And, knowing his own track record, probably a female. And Shikamaru was as ready as he could possibly be for such an attack. He knew his terrain, and he had his contingency plan. Now there was nothing left to do but report to his commander and play nice. There was no reason to be antagonistic toward Danzo. Not to his face, anyway. There was still the illusion of subordinance to maintain. And there were probably a few wrinkles Shikamaru could smooth out while he was in there, if he could do some convincing acting.

He walked into the foyer as nonchalantly as he could, nodding to the secretaries genially, doing his best to appear comfortable and worry-free. Just coming to clear up this silly confusion about my marriage. No chance I'll be killed. He took the stairs, making his way quickly through them so as not to be out of sight too long, and headed for the third floor. He walked down the halls, turned a couple of corners, until finally he stood in front of the door to Danzo's office, _Rokudaime Hokage _plastered across it in large, dramatic font. His watch said nine o'clock, on the dot. He knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Shikamaru let himself in and advanced until he stood before Danzo, stopping well outside of the shadow that his large, ornate desk left on the wooden floor. No sense in giving even the appearance of suspicion. He relaxed his shoulders, his hands by his sides, allowing himself to slouch a little and belie his weariness. The pose of a man confident in his safety. Or, possibly, of an incredibly stupid man.

"Rokudaime-sama."

Danzo sat silently at his desk, watching him with his eye narrowed. His "good" arm was in plain sight, but the other rested in his lap. It was worth keeping part of his attention on that arm; an attack _could_ come quite easily from that direction, with no prior notice. Not likely, but possible.

Eventually Danzo did speak, in a way that gave Shikamaru the impression that he was being felt out. As if Danzo wasn't sure of his intentions, which was probably exactly right.

"Congratulations on your promotion," he said.

"Thank you."

"And you passed with such an impressive score. Highest since your father."

He didn't sound particularly impressed, and Shikamaru didn't say that if he'd actually had time to study he could have had the highest, period. Breaking records hadn't been his goal.

And Danzo didn't mention his own absence from the exam panel, which worried Shikamaru. It meant that he suspected that it had been intentional. However, he did ask about Shikamaru's sudden decision to take it in the middle of the night. And this was where things were going to get tricky. It would be lies from here on out, but he couldn't diverge _too_ far from the truth, or his story would probably come off sounding implausible.

"Oh, that. Yeah...my wife's been trying to get me to take it for a while, and I guess she finally convinced me. I was trying to surprise her."

"And did you? Surprise her?"

He nodded. "I'd say she was thoroughly surprised."

"So you've known her for 'a while' then."

Shikamaru recognized this as a throw-away question. Danzo would know how, when, and where Shikamaru had met Temari, and was probably even familiar with the outcome of their match. He was just getting a baseline reaction for lies. "Four years."

"Hm." He could see that Danzo was choosing his next words carefully, and when he spoke again, there was a hint of accusation in his voice. "I ask because the wedding seemed very sudden. And you're very young."

Shikamaru shrugged. "Temari's at an age where a lot of women get married. And if you have some advice on handling an impulsive woman, I'd love it. It's hard not to give in to everything she wants."

"Is she giving you trouble?"

"Always," he said, then he smiled. Let Danzo decide what kind of trouble he meant.

"Well, you have an opportunity in front of you that won't exist much longer," Danzo said. "You should take advantage of it."

"What's that?"

"You've only been married for a few days. Now is the time to assert yourself, and make your expectations clear. If you let her trod on your authority in the beginning, when the lines between you haven't been established, it will make it impossible to gain and keep her respect in the future."

Danzo's pedantic tone gave Shikamaru the idea that this little speech didn't require his response. Nor did he have one. And, sure enough, Danzo was still speaking, his eye actually closing as if talking to himself, leaning back in his chair. "And you're a jounin, now. This is the time to get her used to listening to you. Even the most headstrong kunoichi won't disobey orders, if she's worthy of the title. Don't take that lightly." He smiled a little then, cool and a bit patronizing, and Shikamaru was torn somewhere between disbelief and disgust. Disbelief, because Temari only had one day left on her pass and Danzo still hadn't approved the marriage, and Shikamaru wasn't going to be able to boss her around if they were both in jail. And disgust, because Danzo couldn't possibly know about what had transpired between he and Temari this morning, yet his advice was oddly applicable and Shikamaru couldn't help but relate a little to what he was saying. He didn't want to use his rank to make Temari completely submissive to him; in fact, he wasn't sure he even _wanted_ a submissive Temari. It might make life easier, but then she wouldn't really be Temari anymore, would she? But it was his duty as a team leader to do what was necessary to keep the members of his team alive, and, less directly, all those who fought beside him. He could have ordered Ino or Chouji around the same way that he had Temari without guilt, but neither of them was his wife. Temari _was_, and she was a shinobi, which made things more difficult. If the facets of his relationship with her could be plotted on a Venn diagram, how many sets would there be? And where would shinobi and spouse overlap? Even if he could come up with a reasonable answer to that question, Temari would undoubtedly argue with him over it.

"Which brings me to the topic of your wife's citizenship," said Danzo. "Do you have your marriage certificate?"

Shikamaru withdrew it from one of his long vest pockets, unfolded it, and handed it to Danzo. He examined the document, then charged two fingers of his left hand with chakra and passed them over the stamp, checking its validity.

"Shikamaru, I have to admit that I'm confused."

"Sir?"

"Word reached me that your marriage was rejected, but that wasn't an order I gave."

The last of Shikamaru's tension over this meeting left his body, in the form of a slow exhalation through his nostrils. Danzo was taking the denial route, which meant he was still pretending to be pals. Now all that was left would be for Danzo to shift the blame for the marriage "confusion" to someone else.

"I've asked the secretary that was on duty yesterday to resign," Danzo said. "She made an egregious error and that can't be allowed to happen again."

Shikamaru nodded solemnly, and said a silent apology to the poor woman who'd been fired for the cause of Danzo's self-serving ambitions. Not to mention terrified by Temari the day before.

"So, does that mean _you'll_ approve it for me? And Temari's citizenship?"

"I'll approve the marriage," said Danzo, "but you might want to think twice about the citizenship. I can grant her an indefinite pass as your wife, without going so far as to make her a full citizen, and that way you still outrank her. If you're constantly having to fight with her that might be the best way to go."

He pretended to consider that. The reality was that it would serve Danzo's interests more than his own to keep some distance between Temari and Konoha, but he was good at packaging the offer in a way that he _thought_ would be attractive.

"Sir, I think it might be better for me to learn to handle her without the rank. I wouldn't want to use it as a crutch forever."

"Your choice," Danzo said. He reached into one of his desk drawers and pulled out a yellow form and a file folder, then he slid the form across the desk for Shikamaru to fill out. Temari's application for citizenship. At first glance he knew he was unqualified to do this: most of the questions were ones he couldn't answer with any certainty. But he could feel that Danzo was watching him carefully, clearly curious to find out how much of Temari's personal information Shikamaru knew off-hand. And hesitation wasn't a option; he had to take advantage of this while the man who could make it official was sitting right in front of him. It would be easier to take it home to Temari and let her fill it out, but that would be gambling on terrible odds.

Even the first line was problematic. Name. He went ahead and wrote down Nara Temari, knowing that he'd probably pay for that one later. Then..._birthday_? How was he supposed to know that? But it was info a husband should know, so he kept his face serious and made an educated guess on the date. A full three years older, because at one point she'd teased him for still being fourteen while she was eighteen. But that hadn't lasted long, so not much more than three years. August? August...something. But that was as much as he knew. So he put August 23rd, which was exactly one month before Ino's. That way he could say he'd gotten the two girls' dates confused. Sounded like blunder that might be stereotypical of a new husband; people would titter, but they wouldn't be suspicious.

Blonde, he knew. There wasn't enough room on the "eye color" line for "sometimes blue and sometimes green," so he wrote "bl-grn." Then height. Couldn't he just put "shorter than me?"

When he got to weight, he felt himself cringe.

"Problem?" asked Danzo.

Finally, an issue he could be completely honest about. "I'm not sure how much she weighs, and something tells me guessing is going to get me in trouble."

Danzo offered none of his valuable wisdom this time; he just went back to the file. Shikamaru figured that guessing lower was better. In fact, if Temari was anything like Ino, being ludicrously low would be better than being exactly right. Shikamaru weighed fifty-five kilograms, so a lot less than that...forty-five sounded good. No way Temari was forty-five kilograms. She was way too curvy for that.

Residential address was a no-brainer. Occupation...if shinobi, list ranking...previous village of citizenship...

Mother: Not applicable/Deceased.

Father: Not applicable/Deceased.

Spouse: Nara Shikamaru.

Children: None.

A glance at his watch showed that it was 9:08, so he took his time with the last questions. At 9:11 he signed the form on the line that said "Parent/Guardian." Temari was going to love that one.

He gave it back to Danzo, who didn't even glance at the information. He just signed it, tore off the top copy, chakra-stamped them both, and handed the bottom one to Shikamaru. He looked suddenly bored with the whole situation, as if the results wouldn't affect him one way or the other. He probably didn't think that Shikamaru was going to be getting very far with the documents.

"You'll have to take that to the OH to get her an ID, but in the mean time it's the proof of her citizenship."

"Understood."

Danzo grunted and placed his copy in the file folder, without looking up again. Shikamaru took this as dismissal, so he folded his marriage certificate and Temari's citizenship papers and put them carefully into his vest pocket. Then he bowed and excused himself.

He scanned the hall as inconspicuously as possible before stepping out and closing Danzo's door behind him. Once outside, he leaned against the wall beside the door and let out a long breath. The first and easiest part was over. Danzo encountered without incident, as he'd suspected, and citizenship papers obtained. He couldn't stop his hand from coming up to pat the pocket of his vest where the all-important documents were being kept; if he could get out of here alive, Temari's position in Konoha and as a Nara would be secure. But that was the biggest 'if.'

With his hand still on his pocket, he rotated his wrist to see his watch. 9:13. Next would come the second part, the outcome of which he couldn't be totally sure. He wanted to believe everything would turn out alright, and that in a few minutes he'd exit the Hokage Building unharmed, still in possession of Temari's citizenship papers. But this part wasn't only up to him, and if Danzo was going to have Shikamaru attacked, there's no way he'd play around. He couldn't let Shikamaru escape with proof of his ill-intent.

He moved quickly through the hallways, still trying to appear relaxed in case he should come in contact with anyone, but keeping his eyes, ears and mind on hyper-alert. But he passed no one, and soon he was at the entrance to the stairwell. He stood outside the door for a moment, preparing himself for the inevitable encounter. There was no question in his mind that this was where he'd be attacked; after he left the stairwell he'd be in broad view of the secretaries downstairs, if not Dad's team.

His watch said 9:16. The hair on the the back of his neck was standing up, but he opened the stairwell door and stepped inside.

From his vantage point at the top of the stairs, he couldn't see anyone. But there were two landings between each floor, four sets of stairs total, the sets turning in on themselves as they descended, one landing at a time. So he couldn't see more than a level below him. Anyone could be below that; _twenty_ people could be below that and he'd have no way of knowing until he was already upon them. And an area of particular concern was the "ceilings" on the underside of each set of stairs. Most nin would be able to press themselves against one and drop on him from above.

He would be a lot safer if he could lock the door he'd just come through; at least that way no one would be able to sneak in behind him once the door was out of sight. But he didn't have the means to lock it in any way that wasn't permanent, and getting _himself_ stuck in here would be stupid in the extreme. So he took out an exploding tag and sealed it to the door and the wall beside it with a high amount of chakra. No one would be able to open the door without detonating it. It wouldn't incapacitate the intruder because the heavy, metal door would still be blocking most of the force, but at least it would alert Shikamaru to the fact that someone had come in behind him.

Then, with no one to act casual for, he went into full observation mode. He pressed his back against the wall and began to go down, carefully, one step at a time, eyes darting around in order to catch the slightest movement, ears straining for a footstep, a sigh, a door handle turning. Even his hands itched against the walls, ready to jump into a seal at a moment's notice. He could feel his heart pounding, nerves winding tighter and tighter with each step, because each step was bringing him closer to _it_. The first sign of attack. The first threat. But he swallowed those feelings and ignored them. He couldn't afford to get distracted.

Once he was on the second landing, he checked the bottom of the stairs he'd just gone down. Clear. From here, he could see everywhere except the door he'd come in, the door he'd be leaving through, and the underside of the last sets of stairs.

Then he took the third flight of stairs, already ducking and craning his neck to see under the last one...

Nothing.

And from here he could see the door. There was nowhere left for someone to hide.

Could he have been wrong about this?

No. This was Danzo's chance. His best opportunity to get rid of the Nara problem forever. He wouldn't pass it up.

Confused, he turned around and checked behind him, even though he knew that no one would be there. Then he descended the last flight and walked to the door. He wasn't relieved; if anything, he felt more apprehension than ever. Tension unabated. Questions unanswered. The stairwell was empty. His watch said 9:17.

He reached for the handle, fingertips barely brushing cold metal.

The tag upstairs detonated.

He didn't have time get his hands into rat. Before he could even _flinch_ he felt hands on him, lifting and throwing him back. He flew across the room at an incredible speed, head bouncing off the concrete wall with a thud, stars exploding behind his eyes.

He fell to the ground, his mouth already filling with blood. He head was throbbing, but he pushed himself up enough to see his attacker.

A woman. Of course.

She was dressed in an Anbu uniform, her face covered by a mask in the shape of an Iriomote cat. From this angle, he couldn't see any weapons on her other than a sword on her back, but that didn't mean anything. If she'd really gotten down to the first floor from the third as fast as he thought, she might not need any weapons.

He didn't waste another second. Tensing his muscles under him he sprang from the floor on all fours, flipping back and away. When he was in mid-flip, his hands hidden from the kunoichi's view by his body, he formed a rat seal. But before he could send out his shadow he felt her hand grab him right out of the air and yank him back to the ground. He hit the ground face-first, the wind knocked from him, and he gasped for breath as he lifted his head. She was already back by the door.

This was bad. The way she moved wasn't even human. As if to demonstrate this, the woman flickered, was gone, and Shikamaru felt a kick in his ribs that flipped him over and over until he hit the wall.

She didn't bluster or brag or even speak. She just took her place by the door again, watching him, an automaton designed for one thing: eradication. She didn't even look like she was in a battle; there was none of that tension in her, or anxiety or excitement or fear. It was like her emotions had been switched completely off.

He lay there for a second, pretending to be knocked out. It required closing his eyes, but his eyes were useless for following her movements, anyway. He did calculations on her skill level versus his own in a tenth of a second, and his brain spit out the information that he'd been afraid of. One-on-one, the odds of this woman beating him were ninety-two percent. She was a trained assassin, and there was just no way that he could compete with her in speed. Temari might be able to; the way that the kunoichi moved reminded him of how Temari's fans flashed through the air, nearly invisible to the naked eye. But Temari wasn't here.

He only had one chance, and that was Kageyose. He might be able to complete a one-handed sign, even if he was attacked in the process. He could do it as long as he concentrated, but he needed to buy some time.

He finally spat the fragment of broken molar onto the floor, along with a mouthful of blood. Then he got to his feet quickly. He anticipated that she would rush him again, so he aimed a punch for the empty air in front of him, feeling a little ridiculous as he did. But his fist connected, and the kunoichi was suddenly visible in front of him, her breath escaping her in an _oof _as she flew backward onto the ground.

While she was down, he brought his hand out in front of him to try and complete the sign. But she flipped back over her head and landed on her feet, disappearing again, and he felt her grab his arm from behind. Too late. Even when she'd been on the _ground_, he still wasn't fast enough. It was like trying to outsmart a bolt of lightning. A total waste of effort.

That was his last truly rational thought. The kunoichi wrenched his arm back and twisted it, and his shoulder dislocated with a pop.

Sudden, intense pain jolted through his back and shoulder and he fell to his knees, a groan escaping between his clenched teeth. His useless arm hit the ground beside him and the pain doubled, tripled, causing black to swirl into his vision. But he couldn't. He couldn't pass out. Not yet.

The kunoichi returned to the door, watching. Her message was clear; there will be no more attempts at shadow manipulation. And it made Shikamaru rethink his previous perception of her emotionlessness. Cruelty, it seemed, she had in spades, or she would have killed him in the first place. Her cat mask was perfectly appropriate; apparently playing with him was good enough for now.

That's when she drew her sword.

Slowly. Deliberately. And in an instant he saw it; his death at the hands of this woman because of...what? A slight miscalculation in the time? An unexpected delay? He longed to check his watch, but he couldn't bring his wrist up, so he glanced at the door instead, as if by staring at it, he could will the handle to turn.

Nothing.

Sighing, he turned his eyes back on the kunoichi. She bent her knees, leaning over slightly. Preparing to pounce.

He closed his eyes.

A bang caused his eyes to fly open again, made him jump a little and sent pain shooting down his shoulder. The door had been flung open, and there stood Temari in the frame, face contorted in rage. It softened a bit when she looked at him, but when she spoke her voice sounded strained. Like maybe she was getting sick.

"Shikamaru?"

Okay...maybe...now he could pass out. "You're late," he croaked.

Her eyes narrowed in confusion. "Wha-"

"Watch out," he said, wanting to nod or point at the kunoichi, but every muscle in his upper body protested the movement. So he directed his eyes at her instead, trusting that Temari would follow them. "She's-"

But the kunoichi was gone.

Agony tore through his body, from his back to his stomach, a searing heat as vital pressure was released. His head tilted down, eyes fell upon twelve inches of bloody steel protruding from his gut.

"-fast," he whispered.

Somewhere in the distance he heard Temari scream, his name or a curse or both, and the pain intensified, then dulled, as the sword was drawn back out of his body. Hot blood gushed down his abdomen and back, and irrational thoughts began to flicker through his consciousness.

_I should stand on my head, so my heart is below the wounds._

He began to lean, gravity pulling, his body no longer resisting, the hard floor coming up to meet him.

_I could have had a whole pack of cigarettes._

But the ground didn't jar him when he hit; instead, it felt strangely warm and soft, cushioning his fall.

_Something wet is dropping on my face. Rain in the stairwell?_

He knew inside that he'd lost...but his calculations had been perfect...sixteen minutes to get here...leaving at nine...traveling faster than he had but stopping for directions...he'd entered the stairwell at nine-sixteen...Temari should have met him there...but something had happened to slow her down and he couldn't figure out what it might have been. But it was hard to focus, to connect these questions to himself or Temari anymore, and the worry and fear and frustration he'd been fighting all day long began to dissolve, to fade, pushed away by a sound that had the power to make him feel...happy. Surrounded by a protective warmth, even as his life was pouring out onto the ground.

An enraged battle cry, torn from Temari's throat.

* * *

**A/N 2:** Okay, I know you guys have questions. The answers will all come, but not for a couple of chapters. There is a plan, I promise, so don't freak out just yet. :)

And be on the look out for 'Part Two, Temari.' Shouldn't be more than a couple days. And please give me love, and by that I mean reviews. ;) I've worked really hard and I'm kinda freaking out right now. Here's to future chapters!

Thanks!


	8. Undone, Part Two

**Chapter Eight**

**Undone, Part Two**

**Temari**

After Shikamaru had left the house, Temari had stared at the door, stupefied, for about two minutes. Then she'd snapped, all the anger and apprehension and _fear_ that she'd been holding back flooding into her body at once. It propelled her, forced her across the floor, out the back door, plummeted her into the forest behind the property. She'd heard Inoichi calling her, chasing her, warning her to wait for him but she hadn't slowed, couldn't slow herself because her body demanded relief from stress _now_, and if she didn't destroy something she would kill someone. Better that she stay ahead of him.

Once in the forest she'd yanked out both fans and had screamed her anxiety in the form of jutsus, tearing a path through the trees with sickling winds. It was a jutsu that she probably shouldn't use the small fans for, because they lacked the ability to distribute the power over a larger surface. As a result, her winds were concentrated gusts that were far less controlled. But it was perfect for her right now, a fitting vent for her emotions because that's how she felt: focused, but out of control. All around her, the forest echoed her fury and helplessness, in the snap of branches and the deafening groan of centuries-old trees leaning, falling, crashing to the ground. In the cry of birds as they escaped her wrath, shrieking into the sky.

She'd never been one for self-deprecation. For taking mistakes or losses as a blow to her self-esteem. To do so was pathetic, and that time and energy would be better spent learning and training. Getting stronger, so as not to make the same mistake twice. But there was no effort that she could put forth that would change history, that would bring him back here to give her another chance to convince him. No training or study that would give her a second shot at keeping her husband from heading off to his death, alone. This event was once-in-a-lifetime, and she'd failed, and demolishing the forest wasn't enough, it couldn't pacify her, it wasn't relieving _anything_. So she began to turn that hatred in on herself, and she could feel it eating her alive, even as she struggled against it by shouting louder, by putting even more chakra into her next attack.

_Loser_. Everything came down to what you would say to him today and you failed. Was that all you really could have done? Were you too _proud_ to beg him? You could have begged. You could have broken his nose for holding you down, for holding you back, and _made_ him see it from your point of view. You could have promised him anything...anything he wanted...let him name his price...but when the time came, when he was standing right in front of you and you had the chance, you choked. Too weak, Temari.

What was it about this moment? This day and this time and this village and this family and this man? Losing...it wasn't a part of her. It wasn't in her genes. Winning was in her genes. Doing things her way. Taking charge and breaking down walls and getting what she wanted because, after all, what she wanted was the good of everyone around her. Of her people. The good of Suna. Of her brothers. Of even her husband and her in-laws. But today, it was like she hadn't even been Temari. _She'd_ been controlled, _she'd_ been broken down, and _he'd_ gotten what he wanted, with nothing more than a plan he'd whipped up in the seconds that he was laying on the ground after getting the letter yesterday. _Seconds_. He'd had her cornered in seconds, and she'd gone through that afternoon and that evening and this morning still fighting, still thinking she had a chance, and she'd never had a chance at all, because he'd won the battle in those seconds in the grass, still short-winded from all his exercise. He'd blinked, and he had her. With no effort on his part, he had her.

He was stronger than her.

She'd fallen to the ground then, dropping her fans and clutching at the grass beneath her, gasping. It was so, so incredibly tempting to ignore his orders and follow him. What would her insubordination mean, after all? Demotion? Losing her shinobi license? Jail time? Even jail time was nothing. Jail time, she could do. But in her heart she knew that submission meant more than that. As much as it went against her personality to follow rules just for the sake of following them, she understood that, in the military, the chain of command represented security for the civilians. They could rest at night, could go about their lives in peace, because they knew that, if ordered to die for their safety, shinobi would die. And that, if necessary, their comrades would let them. Even though the occasional stupid order slipped through, and the occasional life was lost needlessly, it didn't mean that the whole system was worthless. That it could be flouted on a whim. Even on the whim of a wife.

Stay here while I go to Danzo's office, he'd said. So arrogantly. His words were etched into her brain, and she could still hear them, when she stopped yelling at her fans long enough to listen. The simplicity of his order annoyed her. No effort at all. Stay here while I go to Danzo's.

Stay...here...

...wait a minute.

Temari's breath caught and her head snapped up, and she slowly dropped back onto her heels. She could hear Inoichi running up behind her, chiding her for going off on her own, but she wasn't really listening. She was thinking.

Stay here.

While I go.

To Danzo's.

While I _go_.

She realized, that verb made all the difference, and the thought made her laugh a bit in disbelief.. While I _go_, not while _I'm at_. 'While I go' only covered the the time that Shikamaru would actually be en route to Danzo's office. The course of time in which he was physically moving.

She laughed again. And his second order, 'be here when I get back'...as long as they came home together, she'd be following that one. She'd just have to be the first one through the door.

She was pushing it. She knew that. The point of following orders wasn't to pick apart semantics, it was to understand and honor the spirit in which the order was given. But she didn't care. He'd used the system to get his way, and she could do the same. Just let someone try and prove that she'd fully understood his orders. She'd lie.

"Inoich-." The sound of her voice surprised her; she'd thrashed it with all of her shouting, and now it wasn't working like it should. She cleared her throat and tried again, but the results weren't much better. "Inoichi-san?"

He paused in his tirade and looked down at her, forehead wrinkled in annoyance. "What?"

"How long does it take to get to the Hokage Building?"

"Fifteen, twenty minutes. Why?"

She didn't answer, just picked up her fans and turned back to the house, using chakra to carry her over the yard faster. Inoichi's feet pounded the ground behind her. Within seconds she was in the kitchen. The clock said ten 'til nine.

He'd left about ten minutes ago, so there was no way he'd be there yet. But in five or ten more minutes. She couldn't know for sure exactly how many.

The only thing she was positive about was that he'd be there by nine. Those were _his_ orders. So at nine, she'd be clear. By nine her orders would have been carried out perfectly, and she'd be free to pursue her own interests. Like paying a visit to the Hokage.

That left her ten minutes.

And they proved to be the ten longest minutes of her entire life. In that time, she tied her hair back, brushed her teeth, paced in front of the clock, forced herself to choke down a piece of bread and a cup of cold tea, tried unsuccessfully to find Yoshino and tell her the plan, and paced some more. The spaces between the seconds felt like years.

Inoichi said nothing to her, but watched her curiously...almost suspiciously. When it was ten seconds 'til nine, Temari walked to the front door, ticking them off in her head.

Apparently Inoichi couldn't contain his questions any longer.

"Going somewhere?"

"Yep."

"Going to disobey orders?"

"Not as far as I can tell." She glanced back to where he stood at the end of the entryway, arms crossed in front of him. "You're going to follow me, right?"

He nodded. "I have my orders, too."

"Better get ready then."

Her mental clock ticked down to zero, and she threw open the front door. She didn't bother with the streets, instead leaping onto the roof and running that way, traveling over the houses in the Southern compound. She ran from roof to roof as quickly as possible, with no regard to Inoichi and _his_ orders. It wasn't her fault if he was an old man; if he wanted to keep up with her, that was his problem.

The anger was still there, pushing, urging...tearing down the trees hadn't diminished it in the slightest. Trees didn't feel anything. They couldn't absorb her wrath as pain and relieve her of it. She needed to punish someone.

She was really just hoping for an excuse to knock Danzo's teeth out.

She covered the ground quickly, roofs and treetops flying by in a blur under her feet, but as she got closer to the center of town she realized that there was a flaw in her plan. She didn't actually know where the new Hokage Building was. She'd just been heading in the general direction of all the government offices, but from here they all looked the same. Apparently the citizens were just expected to know which was which. So she went as far as she could, but when she reached the market she was forced to jump down to the street and get directions from someone. There were plenty of people around; it was just as crowded here as it had been yesterday, and she was delayed as she made her way through the throngs of shoppers. But soon she spotted someone she knew: the woman with the barbecue cart.

"Ogawa-san!"

The woman smiled. "Temari-chan, was it? Are you here for breakfast?"

"No, sorry. I'm hoping you can tell me where the Hokage Building is."

"Oh, well..." Ogawa-san watched her, eyebrows furrowing in concern. "Are you alright, dear?"

"Please," Temari said. There wasn't time for explanations. "The Hokage Building."

She nodded. "Do you know where the Office of the Hokage is?"

"I think so." Yeah, the third plain, square building east of the fifth wide, dirt road.

"The HB is next door to it, on the east side. Looks exactly the same."

"Okay, east side." said Temari. "Thank you."

Before Ogawa-san could respond, Temari took off running again, jumping back onto the nearest roof to avoid the crowd. Inoichi had caught up, but Temari put on a burst of speed and left him behind again. She wasn't really trying to shake him, she was just using it as motivation to push herself faster. Gotta be quicker than a middle-aged man if I want to get there in time to be useful.

It wasn't long before the OH came into view, and beside it what she assumed was the HB. She made herself slow down a bit and drop to street level, so Danzo's men wouldn't see a furious kunoichi tearing toward them and put out an alert. But she kept up a brisk pace, rounding the last corner, the HB looming in front of her. Finally. She didn't know how long it had taken her to get here; all she knew was that Shikamaru had been alone in that building at least that long. She had to get in there, and she wasn't going to let anything get in her way. Not bratty secretaries, not anyone. Not even Danzo would be able to keep her out.

But as she passed a narrow alley, a gruff voice called to her, causing her to stop in her tracks.

"Temari, wait."

She turned to see Shikaku standing there, between the two buildings, leaning against one block wall with his face down. He was right beside her, close enough to reach out and touch. But she hadn't seen him for the shadows.

"Shikaku-san?"

He raised his face to look at her. "Shikamaru just entered the stairwell. We're giving him a few minutes to emerge on his own."

"What do you mean, 'on his own?'"

"The stairwell isn't visible from the outside. It's always been our biggest concern."

She balked. "Are you telling me _no one_ can see him right now?"

He nodded.

"But that's too risky!" she said. "Someone else needs to be in there right now."

She turned to walk away, but his voice stopped her again.

"I know how you feel, Temari," he said, "but we can't barge in until we're positive he's in danger."

"Of course he's-" She was being too loud, and she knew it, so she dropped her voice. Stepped closer to him. "Of course he's in danger. That's enemy territory."

"Nevertheless," he said. "We need to wait."

She didn't have time for this. More Nara arrogance. More Nara pride. She was sick of it all. "_You_ can wait," she said. "I have business inside."

"And what would that business be, exactly? If I recall correctly, you're supposed to be back at the house."

"Then you do _not_ recall correctly, because I'm right here."

His eyes narrowed.

"And my business is to fulfill your wife's wishes."

"Which are?"

"To be by her son's side today. Now, if you'll excuse me-"

"Temari."

An exasperated breath passed between her lips. "_What_."

"Wait."

She stared at him, but he gazed back with equal stubbornness. She couldn't keep the disdain out of her voice when she responded.

"Is that an _order_, sir?"

"It is."

Red flashed in front of her eyes, her jaw tightening. Her rage even scared _her_ a little; she was far too close to attacking her superior. She took slow breaths through her nose, trying to control herself. _Save it for Danzo._

"We can't blow our cover," he said. "If Danzo has reason to suspect that we're united against him, it'll be within his rights to execute every single one of us."

"I don't need a cover," she said. "It's perfectly reasonable for me to join Shikamaru while he goes to discuss _my_ citizenship with Danzo. In fact..." She glanced at the Hokage Building, irritation and worry making her hands and feet itch to move. "Has he already met with Danzo?"

Shikaku didn't immediately answer.

Anger rose up again; she swallowed it down. "Sir?"

"Yes, he has."

"And did he get my citizenship papers?"

His silence, his steady gaze were all the answer she needed.

She nodded. "Then I think you know what you can do with your orders. Shikaku."

She turned and jogged away without another word, fists clenched, breathing jagged from anger and adrenaline. Try to order _me_ around. I'm a Konoha jounin.

And if Shikamaru had gotten injured in the time Shikaku had wasted, she'd never forgive him.

She could barely keep her walk steady as she crossed the street, and once inside the building she broke into a flat-out run. There was no one at the desk, no one on this floor at all, that she could see. It felt oddly deserted, for being the morning of a business day. But it worked to her benefit; she didn't lose any time acting 'normal.'

She headed down the only corridor, looking for the stairwell, and found it at the very end. She didn't hear anything coming from the inside; she wasn't sure if that was good or bad. But one thing was for sure: Shikamaru should have come out by now.

She opened the door to see him on his knees, grasping his right arm, face twisted in pain. There was blood on his mouth and chin, and spattered on the floor near the wall. But when he looked at her his relief at her arrival wrote itself all over his face.

"Shikamaru?"

"You're late," he said.

What? What did he mean by that? Hadn't _he_ been the one to try and make her stay home?

But those questions were irrelevant at the moment. He was injured. Down. And a masked woman was facing him with her sword out, an image that incited so much rage in her that her anger at Shikaku looked like puppy love beside it. Draw a sword on _my_ husband, Cat? I'll make you _eat_ it.

"Watch out," Shikamaru said. "She's-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the kunoichi moved. Temari could barely track her movements; she flickered in front of Temari's eyes like a movie with a low frame rate, but she understood instinctively where the woman was going and what she was going to do. And Temari moved as well, even though she knew there was no way she'd make it in time.

The woman stopped behind Shikamaru; her face turned to Temari. Then, quick as a snake, she stabbed Shikamaru in the back. His eyes flew open in shock.

"-fast," he finished, a whisper of disbelief.

"No!" Temari screamed. The woman drew her sword out of his body, which only made it worse; now his blood was able to freely spew out of the wound it had left behind. Temari raced toward him, watching his face go from surprise, to pain, to disinterest, as his eyes began to close. "No, Shikamaru!"

She dove toward him, catching him before he hit the ground. The kunoichi bolted, heading toward the stairs, so Temari put him on the floor as gently as she could and stood up.

A medic. She had to get him to med-nin right away. But fury at fate and time and her thwarted efforts clouded her mind, blinded her, and she darted after the woman, putting on speed she reserved for the death blow. She wouldn't catch her...she was fast but the kunoichi was faster, and yet somehow she was closing the distance. She flew up the stairs, skipping the actual steps and hitting just the landings, two flights behind the other woman, then just one, and with a scream of absolute hatred she grabbed her just as she was opening the door.

She drew back a fist, and punched her in the face so hard that she heard her jaw crack. The kunoichi flew back, flipped over the railing and landed on the stairs a flight below. Temari jumped over the railing, already pulling out her fans. She didn't bother opening them; it was clubs she wanted now. She wanted to feel bones shatter.

But the kunoichi rolled out of the way when Temari landed, then flipped back to the landing. Her Anbu mask had gotten pushed off to the side by Temari's punch, revealing a dark, cloth mask like the one Kakashi wore pulled up to her eyes. But she slid it back into place and jumped, taking advantage of the high ceiling to go over Temari's head, out of her reach. She was aiming for the door again.

Temari ran in the same direction, intending to catch her when she came down. But the woman hit the wall and ricocheted, then changed directions again. Still headed for the door, but forcing Temari to reassess her movements over and over again. She finally just leaped toward the woman, following her through the air, and when she got close enough she twisted, swung out with both fans at once. Trying to get her twice in rapid succession.

But the kunoichi dodged at the last moment and only one fan made contact. Still, the blunt, metal edge of the fan made a satisfying _thud_ against her upper back, and the woman's trajectory was thrown off. She crashed against a wall, then fell to the landing a full story below her.

She was up by the time Temari reached her, but not fast enough to get away. Temari led in with a punch, which the woman blocked and followed with a punch of her own. It hit Temari somewhere in the gut, but she barely felt it; she absorbed the hit, twisted toward the woman, bent her elbow at ninety degrees and brought it around into the woman's face. Caught between Temari's elbow and the wall, the woman's head bounced, a crack appearing in her mask. It wasn't a bone, but it still felt good.

The woman dropped but it was a feint; she ducked, darted out of Temari's reach and ran for the door again. And Temari was left with a choice to make. She so badly wanted to follow, to chase this woman to the ends of the earth and beat her into oblivion. But Shikamaru was hurt, he needed her...he was bleeding to death on the floor below, and from here she could see both doors; the upper one that the kunoichi was hurrying toward, and the lower one through which she had to get Shikamaru out as quickly as possible.

It was no choice at all. She yelled at the woman one last time, an inarticulate roar of dissatisfaction. Then she spun around and hurried down the stairs toward Shikamaru, replacing her fans on her back along the way. She skipped the last flight altogether, jumping and landing on all fours beside his body. Beside _him_. He wasn't a body, he was Shikamaru. He was going to be fine. But when she scooped him into her arms and stood, the puddle of blood left on the floor behind him terrified her. Could there be any left in his body?

"Wake up," she said to him. "This is no time to be lazy." She sniffed, and that's when she realized that she was crying, she was _bawling_, tears and snot pouring down her face. "Wake up, stupid!"

But he was totally unresponsive. Still warm, but he supported none of his own weight. His head refused to stay on her chest where she'd put it; instead it flopped, bouncing as she ran with him through the foyer. Still no secretaries. Where _was_ everyone?

She kicked through the door and ran onto the street, jumping in the way of the first human she saw. An elderly man.

"The hospital!" she shouted. "Where is it?"

Stunned, he pointed north, and she hurried off in that direction. Figures she'd have to do all this after everything in Konoha had been rearranged.

As she ran, she heard light footsteps behind her, matching her pace.

"Temari, wait!"

She glanced over; Ino was right beside her, jogging easily without the weight of an entire extra human in her arms. "I can't wait!" Temari said. "He's dying! He needs a med-nin!"

"Wait...just..." Ino's dainty hand clutched at Temari's arm. "_I'm_ a med-nin! Stop, okay?"

A med-nin? Ino...was...oh...

"Help him!" Temari ordered.

"I will," Ino said, looking Temari in the eye and speaking carefully, "but you have to put him down."

She nodded stupidly, then laid him out right there on the sidewalk. "You _can't_ let him die," she insisted.

"I'm not planning on it," said Ino. "Chill out."

Ino knelt beside Shikamaru and unzipped his vest. "Help me," she said. "Lift him so I can get this off."

Temari nodded and complied, then held the vest while Ino shoved his shirt out of the way and placed her hands over the wound, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Temari stared at them both, at Shikamaru's gray, waxy face, at Ino's intense gaze, as if she was planning on intimidating the wound into closing on its own. At the glow of chakra emitting from her palms, making Shikamaru's skin go from gray to sickly green. At the crowd that was beginning to gather, a sea of anxious and curious faces. And, for some reason, the only coherent thought she could form was annoyance at Shikamaru, that he'd been so _careless_ as to get holes in his brand new uniform.

There was commotion as someone pushed through the crowd, a male voice ordering people out of his way. Naruto emerged, shock and disbelief making him look like a little kid.

"It's Shikamaru!" he said.

For some reason, this comment _hurt_. More than seeing Shikamaru stabbed; that had made her angry more than anything. But before this everything had been hurry, hurry, hurry, and now she was the useless one, standing on the sideline watching someone else try and heal him. And Naruto's voice, calling out so innocently, but with so much fear...it felt like he was identifying a victim.

"_Nara_ Shikamaru?" someone asked.

"Yeah," said Naruto, which caused a buzz to swell through the crowd, as the information was passed along. Nara Shikamaru, dying on the sidewalk. New wife. And...was that a jounin uniform? New promotion? But now he was dying. How sad.

"What happened to him?" asked a random kid.

"Ask your hokage," Temari said, her voice breaking. Not with tears; she'd already shed all she was capable of. But because she'd used it completely up with all the screaming she'd done. She could barely hear herself.

"_What_?" asked Naruto, confused. "What did he do?"

Temari gestured him closer, then leaned in so she could speak quietly. "Aren't you on Shikaku's team?"

He shook his head. "Not today."

"It was Root," she began, but Ino's voice interrupted her.

"Naruto, help me," she said. "Get this crowd back. I can't concentrate."

He nodded and jumped into action, ordering and corralling with surprising effectiveness. She wouldn't have expected him, alone, to clear so much space for Ino in such a short amount of time, pushing the front line of the crowd back into the street. But his tone of voice left no room for argument. And maybe the fact that he was Konoha's darling hero was working to his advantage. Giving him an air of authority.

And then there was a thud, as Chouji dropped down beside them from the roof above. He immediately got to work helping Naruto with the crowd, using sheer bulk to push them back, a little at a time. His face was deathly pale...maybe paler than Shikamaru's. He looked liable to faint at any moment.

But he stood his ground beside Naruto, giving Ino her space while she worked. Tears streaked his face, and he let them fall unabashedly.

Long, miserable minutes passed, in which Temari found herself staring out into the crowd, mesmerized by the shifting pattern of bodies and faces. A couple of faces were conspicuously missing. Shikaku's. Inoichi's. Chouza's. They had to be taking care of the cat kunoichi. She kept telling herself that; she wouldn't let herself entertain the idea that she'd gotten away.

Finally, Ino removed her hands and stood, wiping Shikamaru's blood on her skirt.

"I have the biggest arteries closed," she said. "But he needs a transfusion right away. And I don't know what else might be damaged; he needs to be seen by someone with more skill than me."

Temari shoved the vest toward Ino, who took it automatically, and bent over to pick up Shikamaru again. But Chouji stepped in the way.

"Let me do that," he said, drying his face on his sleeve. "You can follow us."

"Thanks," she said. "I don't really know where I'm going, anyway."

Chouji picked up Shikamaru, then thundered down the street, deceptively quick for his size. Temari and Ino followed closely behind. Shikamaru was, in no way, out of the woods yet. All Ino had done was keep him from bleeding to death. But there were a dozen more ways to die from a wound like that. Poisoned by the contents of your colon. Pancreas or liver or lung damaged beyond repair. So many ways to die, and precious few paths that led to life.

But if she hadn't come for him, he would already be dead. Dead in the stairwell, while those idiots who were supposed to have been taking care of him boo-hoo'ed around his cooling body.

And, the strangest thing of all, Shikamaru had known. He hadn't been surprised by her arrival; he'd been _expecting_ it. Expecting her to find a way around his orders and be in that stairwell, at that time. But _why_? Why would he go to all that trouble, instead of just explaining it to her? She could _not_ grasp the workings of his mind; it was like he was thinking on an entirely different wavelength.

And it occurred to her, as a thrill very close to dread ran through her body, that his understanding of her, and consequently his control over her, ran deeper than she might ever be able to fully comprehend.

**O O O**

"Shikaku..."

"Shhh, I know. He's fine. He's going to be just fine."

"But...my _baby! _My little boy..."

"I know, Yoshino. But it's over now. The worst part's over now. And he's fine."

"I can't...I can't do this, Shikaku. I thought I could handle it but I can't. It's too dangerous and it's just...he's not a _tool_. He's not a sacrifice for the common good. He's our _child_."

"I know...I'm sorry...shhh, it's okay. Don't cry."

"I don't think I can see him like that again. Just...not until he's awake, okay? Please? Tell him I'm sorry. If you're there when he wakes up tell him I'll be there as soon as I can."

"I understand."

"It's just...my worst nightmares. Over and over and _over_...and...I don't think I'm ever going to be able to sleep again."

"You'll sleep again. Shhh...I'm going to be right here with you while you're sleeping. And he'll be home in a couple of days, and everything will be just like it was."

"It's _never_ going to be just like it was."

"You may be right. We just have to hope that it will be better."

**O O O**

It was a surprise when Shikamaru opened his eyes again. Yellowish light streaming in through the windows, shapes and lines, edges and colors and contrast, all were things he'd fully expected to never see again.

He couldn't see anyone else, though, not that moving his head was something he had the muscle control to accomplish at the moment. And his mouth was dry. His throat kind of hurt, which was weird. Mainly because when he remembered all the places he'd taken damage, it didn't seem right that the only place he should feel pain was in his throat.

He coughed a little to clear it, and _that_ made pain blossom in his gut. Not worth it.

There was a scraping sound, and a pair of worried blue eyes came into view. Temari stood from a chair and leaned over him, and before he could say or do anything she disappeared again. There was a plastic rustle. A faucet running. Then a cup of water appeared in front of his face, held by long, tan fingers.

"Can you hold this yourself?" she asked. Her voice was hoarse, and it reminded him of the way it had cracked in the stairwell.

"You sick?"

"I'm asking you about water," she said. "Do you need help drinking it?"

He tried to lift his right arm first, out of habit. But a ghost of pain in his shoulder made him favor his left, and he was able to take the cup from her. Once he had it, he heard a click, then a buzz, and his hospital bed began to incline. Not too far, though. There was no extra pressure on his abdomen. Then she sat back down in her chair.

"Thanks," he said.

"Mm."

He took a sip of the water; it was lukewarm, from the tap. But it tasted sweet, and fresh, like a gulp stolen from the bathroom sink at three in the morning. Which made him realize that his mouth must have been closed for a long time.

"How long have I been here?"

Her face went out of view again, just for a moment. "It's noon, so...twenty-six hours."

"I've been out that long?"

"They've been keeping you sedated. Some of your treatment was pretty painful, like when they put your shoulder back." A crease appeared between her eyebrows. "Do you remember any of it?"

He tried to think back, but the only strong images he got was a cat-shaped mask and a reflective blade.

"No."

She nodded. "Good."

"Did you kill her?" he asked.

Anger flashed across her face. "No."

"Did anyone kill her?"

"No. Your dad never found her. She didn't even leave a trail."

"Oh." Not dead. Did that mean he had another battle with her to look forward to?

The corner of Temari's mouth turned up a little, though, and there was a hint of self-satisfaction there. "But you weren't the only one who needed a hospital when it was all over."

"I'm sure," he said. There'd never been a doubt in his mind that Temari would at least hold her own against that woman.

Temari gave him a quizzical look, and opened her mouth. But the door popped open and Naruto appeared, grinning with accomplishment. Or something.

"Pork ramen, coming up," he said, and produced a brown paper bag. "I got soda, too. Hey, look who's awake!"

He strode over to a low table nearby, and began digging through the bag. He pulled out a to-go container and handed it to Temari, along with a pair of disposable chopsticks. Then a blue can. Looked like Pocari Sweat. Then he scratched his temple with one finger, and glanced at Shikamaru apologetically. "I didn't get you anything. I figured you'd still be out."

"It's fine," Shikamaru said. "I'm not really that hungry."

When he said it, though, he realized he was lying through his teeth. And as if to call him out for it, his stomach grumbled loudly. Naruto's face fell, but Temari laughed.

"He's not supposed to have anything, Naruto, so don't worry about it. It's intravenous dining until tomorrow." She reached up and tapped the bag of fluid that dangled near his bed. "I've heard it's delicious, though."

"I really can't have anything?" asked Shikamaru.

"Nothing but clear, non-carbonated fluids," she said. She popped open her can of soda. "Your small intestine was partially severed and had to be reattached. They're pretty much done with it, but they don't want you to try and digest anything too difficult. I can get you some juice, if you want."

He felt guilty asking her for it when she was just about to eat her own lunch, but the thought of something with flavor made him desperate. "Okay."

"Apple or grape?"

"Glucose."

She smirked. "Gotcha. Be right back."

She put her food down just out of his sight, and walked out of the room. He got ambitious and turned his head to see where she'd set it. The ramen was perched on a long counter, and beside it was a Shougi board. But the pieces weren't out; it was just...sitting.

"Your dad brought that," said Naruto, around a whole mouthful of noodles. "Temari and I played it a couple of times."

"Really?"

He nodded. "She's really good. I can't beat her."

That didn't surprise Shikamaru in the least. Not that Naruto was dumb; far from it. It's just that planning ahead wasn't his strength. He thought best on his feet, and with his muscles. Under pressure, when something that actually mattered was on the line. The truth was, Shikamaru had always envied him that. Just a little.

"I can show you how to beat her," Shikamaru said.

Naruto looked skeptical.

"Really," he said. "Just get me a set of blank pieces and a permanent marker. You'll never lose to her again."

"Well...okay," said Naruto. He leaned his head back, holding the to-go box over his mouth, and shoveled the rest of the noodles in. Then he jumped out of his chair and headed for the door, tossing the box in the trash along the way. "Be right back."

"Wait...I didn't mean right now..."

But he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him, and Temari pushed through it immediately afterward.

"Where's he hurrying to?" She tapped the lid of the juice on the counter, making it pop, then cracked it open.

"I'm...not sure," he admitted. "Wherever they sell blank Shougi pieces."

Temari looked confused, then she just shook her head in defeat. Like it wasn't even worth trying. She handed him the juice.

"Take it easy on that," she said.

"Yes, ma'am."

She rolled her eyes. "You can get your own juice next time."

He couldn't help but smile a little as he drank his juice. Apple. The truth was, he felt pretty good. He was alive...Temari was alive...everyone important was alive. Things hadn't gone exactly according to plan, but he'd gotten Temari's citizenship papers...

"Your papers," he said.

She cut her eyes at him. "Yes?"

"She didn't get them, did she? The Root woman?"

"No, she didn't. They were right where you left them."

"Good."

"And let's just say I'm going to cut you some slack for your answers, because of your weakened condition. You're in no shape to fight back."

"Thanks..." He felt his smile get a little bigger. "...Nara."

"Oh, shut up."

He watched her eat, jealous of that piece of meat that was way too big for her mouth, but that she was trying to devour whole anyway. "So, what else did they have to reattach?"

She held up a hand...chewed...nodded...chewed some more. Then she finally swallowed. "Actually, nothing. Sakura said it was a miracle that no vital organs had been seriously damaged."

"Huh," he said. He wasn't really listening; he found that his attention kept wandering to her ramen. He tore his focus from it, trying to look somewhere else. Sipping his juice. His eyes landed on something he'd missed before, although now he was wondering how that could have been possible. Because the entire far wall of his room was covered with flowers, a veritable forest of green and white and yellow and purple.

"Where did all those come from?" he asked.

"People," she said. "I couldn't tell you who any of them were."

"Civilians?"

"Mostly. You're getting popular."

"Great."

"But that was the plan, right?" She took a big bite of noodles, and caught himself staring again.

"Yeah, that was the plan," he said. "But I wasn't supposed to get popular by almost _dying_."

"Well, whatever. I'm sure your Dad has turned it to his advantage. Somehow people have gotten the idea that we defeated the cat woman together."

There was something...odd...about her when she mentioned Dad. A sudden drop in temperature. He opened his mouth to ask her about it...floundered, because he wasn't sure how to ask the question without being offensive. But he was saved from having to figure it out right away when Temari laughed.

"Do you want a bite?" she asked. "I'm not supposed to give it to you, but I will if you promise to chew it really, really well."

"What?" He ripped his eyes away from the ramen again and looked at her face instead. She was wearing an expression of bemusement. "No, it's fine. I shouldn't."

"No, you really should, because the puppy-dog look in your eyes is making me queasy."

He sighed. He didn't have the strength to argue, didn't even want to. All he really wanted was ramen.

"Can I have a bite of pork?"

"That is _so_ pathetic," she said. But she rummaged around until she produced a teeny, tiny piece and held it out to him.

"That's it?" he asked.

"Take it or leave it."

He took it. It was marvelous, and gone far too soon.

"No more," she said.

"Yeah, yeah."

There was a knock on the door, and Sakura let herself in. She smiled at Shikamaru.

"Naruto told me you were awake," she said.

"I'm awake."

"How are you feeling? Have the analgesics worn off yet?"

"I don't think so," he said.

"That's good. I just came up here to have you fill out some paperwork. As your next of kin, Temari was required to do it while you were unconscious. But..." The corner of her mouth turned up. "But I don't think I can submit this."

She handed him the papers and pencil. He glanced from the paperwork to Temari, who was biting her bottom lip and staring at pretty much everything _except_ him.

"My answers were perfectly accurate," she said.

Sakura just smiled and shook her head. "I'll be back for those later," she said. Then she let herself out of the room.

He looked back at the papers. The first page was his personal information. Name: Nara Shikamaru. Date of Birth: 9/22. Huh, she actually knew his. Hair...

"Hair: _ridiculous_?"

She shrugged. "Well, it is. Look at it."

"Eyes: vacant?"

Her lip quirked.

"Occupation: Despot and royal pain in the neck. Thanks so much. I could have died, you know."

"But you didn't, thanks to me. And I needed a little comic relief after all of that, if you must know."

"At least I tried to fill your stuff out accurately."

"_Forty-five_ kilograms? That's almost insulting."

"Hey," he said. "That's a loaded question, and you know it. I thought you were going to cut me some slack."

"That _is_ slack."

"Uh-huh." He tossed the papers onto the table. He'd fill them out...later. Or probably never.

"So, are you feeling better?" she asked.

"Better than what?"

"I mean, you've had your juice and your pork, you're awake...you're doing better than you were an hour ago."

"I guess..."

"Great." She set her ramen aside and crossed her fingers in her lap, leaning toward him. Suddenly, all humor was gone from her eyes.

"Because you have some explaining to do."

* * *

**A/N:** We've had our little release of tension after the big fight, some bantering and cuteness, but next chapter things get serious. Questions (lots of them, and Temari's not the only one doing the asking), explanations...confessions? You'll have to tune in.

However, here's an update on my life/schedule, as it pertains to _Arranged_. I went back and read through _Arranged_ last night, and the Author's Notes on the first chapter made me cackle. Yes, there was a time in my life where I had this whole story written out, but became so fluid under my hands, so much of it has changed as I go, that I'm working with only about twenty percent of the old material. It's more of an outline, at this point, but the basic plot is the same. The outcome will be the same; the direction of this story has been planned for months. That said, my goal had always been to finish this story before summer was over. Clearly, that did not happen, largely thanks to my haitus in July. And, as several of you know, I have two children that I home school. The point is, school starts this week, and my free time is going to drastically dwindle. However, that will not affect my commitment to sparkle motion, err...to _Arranged_. I have a couple of strong motivating factors that are keeping me writing regularly, and there will be regular updates until it's done. And, by regular, I mean as soon as I can write a chapter, I will, and as soon as I can publish it, I'll do that, too. I'm not expecting huge gaps between chapters, like that six-week monstrosity between chapters five and six. When I first started this story, I was posting about every four days. My goal for myself, now, is about every ten days. It'll depend largely on the difficulty of the subject matter, but that's what I'm shooting for. **[ETA: **_This was total BS_.**]**

So, what do you think? I think this is probably my favorite chapter, although I'm not sure why. Although, although...did anyone find the blatant double-entendre in the hospital scene? *snort*

Oh, oh, and Annmarie Aspasia did some cool, extremely relevant fanart for the last chapter. And, by coincidence, this one. I'll put the link in my profile; please check it out!

One more quick note to clarify something that I think might be misleading. Temari didn't technically disobey Shikaku. She took the information that Shikamaru had successfully gotten her citizenship papers as proof that she belongs to Konoha now, and as such is _technically _on the same level as Shikaku. He can't order her around anymore. However, the truth is that, as the leader of the coup and the Jounin commander (Jounin Hanchou) Shikaku has more prestige, and, as such, should probably still have some authority over her. (Note Inoichi's comment, "I have my orders, too.") He's her father-in-law, at the very least. But that's really more of a choice. Choosing to submit yourself to a certain leader. Temari, clearly, was past the point of acknowledging any kind of authority, and the bare bones facts are that Shikaku doesn't have any _official _authority over her anymore. :)

I know I'm forgetting some stuff. But it's after midnight and a teachermom needs to get some sleep. Thanks so much for reading, and...gosh, thanks a million for all the positive comments about the last chapter. You guys are so forgiving and uplifting, and it really encourages me. :)

Please review!


	9. Uninhibited

**A/N:** Fluff alert. This is, without a doubt, the Fluff Chapter. It's also unbeta'd, because I really needed to get it out. There will be more notes below; I just didn't want you all to be too surprised. But it's Shikamaru's birthday today, and I think that's a good enough explanation in and of itself. The boy _deserves _some fluff after all the crap he's had to go through. Happy Birthday, Shika-poo!

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

**Uninhibited**

"I don't know what to believe."

"Believe your own eyes. Talk to him."

"And then what? What if everything he says is true, and the Rokudaime has deliberately targeted him? What are you expecting me to do about it?"

"I expect nothing. But I _hope _that you'll examine where your loyalties lie: to one hokage, or to every man, woman and child that lives in this village. People you've sworn to protect."

"I have loyalties to both, Shikaku. You may pretend it's as easy as choosing one over the other, but I'm not so blind."

"The hokage is an _office_. Not a person. And the office serves the people, not the other way around. Loyalty to the hokage _is _loyalty to the people, but only when his purposes serve their needs."

"I can't hear what you're saying to me. You're speaking treason."

"I'm speaking in generalities. If there were a village whose kage was so corrupt that he murdered his most staunch supporters and attempted to murder those subordinates that trusted him and looked up to him for guidance, how would you say that village should deal with him?"

"'If' is the question. And it's the answer that's still eluding me."

"Go talk to him, Hiashi."

"I'll think about it."

**O O O**

It was hard to believe how good Shikamaru looked, given that only twenty-four hours ago he'd been inches from death, his face as white as the sterile walls around him, three med-nin working simultaneously to put his guts back together. Hard to believe he'd been laying there unconscious while bag after bag of donated blood was pumped into his veins. Temari had been here through the whole thing; it went against hospital policy, of course, but there wasn't a shinobi in this entire hospital that she was scared of, and none had seemed willing to confront her. So she'd stayed. It wasn't until this morning, after he'd stabilized from the surgery and transfusions, that they'd put his shoulder back. A nin had sat on his chest while Sakura had wrenched and twisted his arm into place, and Shikamaru's face had gone rigid with pain despite the sedatives.

Hard to believe so much had happened in such a short amount of time. His exam. The fights. Running to try and help him. Watching him be wounded. The _blood_. She hadn't realized until hours later that he'd bled all over her dress and thighs as she'd carried him out onto the street. It had been Ino who'd brought her fresh clothes so that she could change, and clean up as best she could with paper towels and hand soap and alcohol wipes. Ino had tried to get Temari to go home for the night, and Temari had agreed that it was a good idea. But, she just...couldn't. At that point he'd still been in critical condition, so the visiting hours hadn't applied to her. And she hadn't been able to bring herself to leave without seeing him open his eyes first. So she'd waited until everyone else had gone home, and she'd changed right there in the room with him. Almost daring him to wake up and look at her. She knew he wasn't going to; he was still drugged. But wouldn't it be be just like him to wait until she was in her underwear to open his eyes and say something really arrogant, like, "There's a bathroom for that, you know." Or, "Just like a woman to change clothes twelve times a day, even in the hospital." Any other guy would cat-call or make a suggestive joke, but not Shikamaru. No, things like that fell under the category of flirting, and flirting was something she didn't think he was capable of. Not with her, anyway.

But he hadn't woken up, even after the lure of an opportunity to make fun of her. And she'd never really gotten comfortable enough in the chair to sleep. So she'd sat there all night, just watching him. Watching, and wondering _why_ it was so important that she still be here, even when she knew that the worst was over and he was in good hands. Why did it feel like it was only her vigilance that was keeping him alive? It bordered on superstition, and that was an uncomfortable realization; it suggested that she was still running on emotions, long after the serious threat had passed. Everyone else had calmed down, everyone else had made their visit and gone home. Even Yoshino had stoically accepted her son's condition, on the surface at least; who knew what was going on in her head? But Temari was still there, exhausted and cold and sitting in a hard, angular, metal chair, _worrying_. Worrying that something would go wrong, something had been missed, and he would die and leave her a widow before she'd ever really been a wife. Worrying that maybe they'd put him too far under and that they wouldn't be able to bring him back. Anything. Anything at all could go wrong, and she wouldn't be able to rest until she knew that it hadn't.

Then, some time after the shoulder had been fixed and Sakura had turned off the anesthesia and extubated him, Shikamaru had woken up. And when she'd seen his eyes open, looking at her, recognizing her, she'd felt a flood of relief unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. Even stronger than the day she'd watched Gaara brought back from death. And how could that be? How could it be possible for her to be more concerned about the fate of this man than that of her own brother?

And how was it that all of her anxiety seemed to be gone, just like that? The first words out of his mouth had been to ask her if she was sick. Concerned about _her_. And it was so incongruous as to be laughable. In fact, that was kind of how she'd felt. Like laughing. Like getting up and moving around, or...responding in some physical way. Punching him in the nose. Yeah, she'd definitely wanted to hit him. Stupid jerk. Scaring her like that.

But she hadn't hit him; instead, she'd gotten him some water. And as she'd watched him drink it, lying back on the narrow hospital bed with his dark hair fanned out around him like a girl, awake, moving, and indisputably _alive, _she realized: she didn't want to hit him at all. She didn't want to punish him for surviving. Survival was something that deserved to be celebrated, and _that's_ what she wanted to do. To throw a party in honor of life. Or something.

Not that a party was feasible in the hospital, but it was a feeling that stuck with her. Contentment that seemed to refresh each time she looked over to make sure he was still awake, and that morphed into jubilation when he smiled. Only twenty-four hours later, and he was healthy enough to smile. It felt like a miracle.

But she hadn't forgotten what he'd said to her in the stairwell. _You're late. _She hadn't forgotten the way he'd controlled her, and she still had no idea why. But it was something she was going to put a stop to, right here, right now. He'd survived: okay, good. Great. She wasn't a widow, and she maybe had another sixty years to look forward to with this guy. And this was exactly the sort of nonsense that needed to be stopped before it got out of control. This...manipulation. No more. She'd have to save her partying for later.

So she waited until Sakura was gone, until it didn't seem like anyone would be dropping in anytime soon. And she'd laid it all out for him. He was fine, with his talking and eating and joking and grinning; he could handle a little opposition. And she was tired of being clueless.

"How did you know?"

He watched her from the bed, eyes tired but sharp.

"Know what?"

"Don't be disingenuous," she said. "How did you know I would come? I mean, I _know_ how you knew. You always planned on having me there, didn't you?"

"Not really," he said. "After I got the letter I was pretty determined to keep you home. But..."

"But, what?"

"I changed my mind."

With this, he closed his eyes as if he was done explaining. He almost looked like he was about to go back to sleep. Forget that.

"Stop with the cryptic answers," she said. "You tricked me and I want to know why."

He sighed and opened his eyes again. She caught his gaze drifting toward her empty ramen box, so she picked it up and tilted it forward so he could see that there was nothing left to beg for. He probably didn't mean to look so pitiful when he realized he wasn't getting any more; she was _sure_ he didn't mean to tug at her heart strings and actually make her feel guilty for following the rules. Mostly. But it still irritated her.

"I wasn't planning on bringing you with me at first," he said. "I didn't want you near Danzo, and you already know why. I still feel that way; I think it would be very stupid for the two of us to ever be alone with him. But you were right. You deserved to be there. And while I was taking the jounin exam I came to the conclusion that I was going to need to you to beat anyone that Danzo pit me against. He knows me too well. He knows what my weaknesses are. But with two of us there are a lot fewer weaknesses to exploit. And I assumed that anyone that would be the biggest threat to me would be someone right on par with with you, because of our complementary fighting styles."

"But why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"You caught her, didn't you?"

"What?"

"You caught the Cat. In the stairwell."

"Yeah..."

"You shouldn't have," he said. "She was too fast for you. Not a lot faster, but fast enough."

She could feel it building again, the frustration. Because he wasn't just _answering_ her questions. He was bouncing around and making her work for it, and whether or not that was his intent, it was annoying.

"Shikamaru..."

"So how did you catch her?" he asked. "How did you catch up to the woman that I couldn't even _see_?"

This question did make her pause, because it was something she'd found herself thinking about off and on ever since Shikamaru had stabilized enough for her to let her mind wander. How had she moved so fast? She'd felt almost jolted through with emotions in that moment, so unfocused on her own body was she that it moved on its own. Like she'd _willed_ it to be faster than The Cat.

"I was...upset," she said.

"Furious."

She nodded.

"I don't think you have any idea how dangerous you are when you're angry," he said. "You're good at controlling your emotions in battle, because you know that when you get mad or scared or cocky, you lose your focus. Right?"

She nodded again. She understood now where he was going with this, but she was still having a hard time accepting it.

"But I didn't need you to be focused. _I_ was planning on being the focused one. I just needed you to be a force of nature. And you were."

"I can't _believe_ you," she said. Anger pushed her to her feet, but she wouldn't let it carry her any farther. He wasn't _that_ healthy. "You withheld information from me so that I would be _mad_? That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard of!"

"It's not dumb," he said. "It would be dumb if it hadn't worked."

"It _didn't_ work. I wasn't mad at you, I was mad at her for _hurting_ you. And I would have felt that way regardless. You didn't need to _lie_ to me."

"Yeah, but my plan didn't include me getting hurt. My plan included us meeting in the stairwell and taking on our attacker together."

"So you weren't even going to tell me _then_?"

"I wasn't planning on it, no."

"When _were_ you going to tell me?"

He paused for a moment before he answered. "I hadn't thought that far ahead."

"Liar," she said. "You _always_ think ahead. You weren't going to tell me at all. You were going to let me think I'd worked out a way around your orders on my own, and that I'd coincidentally showed up right in time to be your force of nature or whatever, and you were never going to tell me that you'd planned it all along."

He opened his mouth, but she was still pushing forward, all of her frustration spilling out at once.

"And you know who that makes me think of?" she asked. "Your _father_. Keeping everything secret so we'll act the way he wants us to. You're treating me the same way he's been treating us both, and that's cruel. You hate being uninformed as much as I do. So why would you do _me_ that way?"

"Because I had to, Temari. You needed the unchecked aggression to put you at her level. She would have killed you, too."

"No, she wouldn't have," Temari said, "because she didn't attack me."

_That_ seemed to catch him short. "Not at all?"

"No."

"Not even once you'd caught her?"

"She hit me once, but she was more interested in getting away than fighting."

His eyebrows furrowed, and she could already see the gears turning in his mind. "Huh."

"Huh, what?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Don't do that to me, Nara. Don't keep stuff from me unless you want another enemy."

"I'm not keeping anything from you."

"You're confused and you won't tell me why."

"Well..." He ran a hand through his hair. "I assumed that Danzo was more concerned about keeping his image clean. I didn't think he'd let either of us out alive to tell on him."

Temari shrugged. "But it wouldn't make any sense for her to engage me if she knew she'd lose. She'd be dead, and we'd still be dragging Danzo's name through the mud."

"Yeah. Maybe."

She could tell he wasn't totally convinced, but that was a tangent she wasn't interested in at moment. There was business to tend to.

"Listen," she said. "You can't keep things from me and manipulate me and expect me to trust you. Married people are supposed to be partners."

"Temari...I don't know what I'm doing, okay? I'm a husband _and_ I'm a jounin. Which of those roles takes precedence?"

"Maybe it depends on the situation."

"Does it? When would it be okay for me to blow off my job to be your ideal spouse?"

She thought about it, but she didn't have an answer. The truth was that there was no way he _could_ be her ideal spouse if he was the kind of guy to shirk his duties as a shinobi.

"And what about you?" he continued. "Did you disobey orders to go save your husband?"

"That's different," she said. "_You_ were the one that told me to stay. And besides, I'm not asking you to put me before work, I'm asking you to use that massive brain of yours to find ways to do your job without _lying_ to me."

He didn't say anything for a moment. He took a couple of swigs of his apple juice instead, swallowed, then exhaled slowly. Licked his lips.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She did a mental double-take. "Say what?"

"You heard me. I went with the plan that had the best chance of success, but I probably could have come up with another one if I'd really tried. I didn't expect you to get so mad over it."

"No, you didn't expect me to find out at all."

He exhaled again, but this time with more frustration. "You know, I've been wracking my brain for the last week, trying to figure out why you have a comeback for every single thing that comes out of my mouth."

"I do _not_," she said.

He cocked an eyebrow at her, as if to say 'case in point.' She fought with herself for a moment over how she could argue with that, before contenting herself with a glare.

"Is it because you're a woman?" he asked, more to himself than to her. "I think it must be. Ino's the same way and it drives me crazy. And after all these years, I still haven't figured out a way to shut her up."

Temari rolled her eyes. He must be feeling great if he was back to pontificating on the ways of women.

"Get over it," she said. "This has nothing to do with being male or female, and everything to do with the fact that you act like you know everything, even after you admit that you don't know anything. I wouldn't have to argue with you if you'd _listen_ to what I say now and then, instead of assuming that I'm an idiot just because I have breasts. And, by the way, 'shut her up?' Seriously? That has got to be the most arrogant thing I've ever heard you say. Even more arrogant than that time you tried to convince me that you couldn't let me protect you because you're a _man_. I don't know what makes...you think...you...can..."

She started to lose her train of thought when he reached up with his left hand to clamp fingers around the front of her dress and pull her down. Then she found it was impossible to speak at all, because something was mashed against her mouth.

It was _his_ mouth.

For an instant, her mind blanked; the only things she _knew_ were the things she could _feel_. His face right there, blocking off her air and making it hard to breathe. Hands flat against his chest because she'd instinctively avoided putting her weight on his shoulders. Her knee jammed painfully against the metal edge of his bed. But then synapses began to fire again and she realized, with a clash of conflicting emotions, he was _kissing_ her. Lips to lips, the way people that were in love with each other did. Not complaining about her attitude. Not sighing heavily. Not telling her how troublesome she was. _Kissing_.

His lips barely moved, hers didn't at all, before he released her and let her sink onto the edge of his bed. But when she glanced at him he was wearing a lop-sided grin, eyes bright with puzzlement and awe.

"It worked," he said.

She opened her mouth, trying to think of a response. Nothing intelligent came to her.

"Huh?"

His grin widened, awe replaced with amusement. "You stopped arguing."

"You..." Realization came over her and made angry, embarrassed heat crawl into her face. Of course. Just another ploy, another way to use her own personality against her in order to get his way. "You _kissed_ me to shut me up?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"You can't...you just..." She sputtered, forced out words through clenched teeth. "That's so...what's _wrong_ with you? Who do you think you are? Some kind of...stupid...guy that can...just-"

Fingers wrapped in the front of her dress again, pulling. He sat up a bit; dark eyes caught her gaze. His face got closer, noses brushed, lips met, and her futile babbling came to an abrupt and undignified halt. He kissed her for real this time, lips pliant and responsive, and she found herself reciprocating despite her indignation. No, her _anger_. Despite the fact that what she really wanted to do was shove him away and...punch him. In the mouth. Not _kiss_ him in the mouth; that wasn't going to solve anything. But she couldn't make herself _stop, _and he had the nerve to snort right in the middle of it. Laughing at her.

When he pulled away his goofy grin was still in place, even though he was wincing as he lowered himself back onto his bed. And she was left just as dumbstruck as before. She knew that she was playing right into his hands by being unable to snap back at him after such a maneuver, but the harder she tried to retaliate, the harder it was to speak.

"Say something," he said. Taunting.

She finally found her voice; it came rushing back to her all at once. "You're a jerk and I hate you."

He closed his eyes and crossed his fingers in front of his abdomen, the picture of contentment. "No, you don't."

A chill spread through her limbs, because he was absolutely right. She didn't hate him. She'd never hated him. She was mad at him, frustrated with him, baffled by him, but the one feeling she'd never been able to conjure up was hatred.

He opened one eye a crack and peered at her, then closed it again, the corner of his mouth curling a little. And she fixated on that annoying smirk as the symbol of everything that was wrong with her life; namely bossy, domineering men. They came in all different flavors, from Gaara's cold calculation, to Shikaku's secretiveness, to Shikamaru's blatant pulling of every one of her strings. He thought he had her; well, she was tired being so easy to figure out. She was tired of always doing exactly what he expected. And, as for his smirk, it was about time someone wiped _that_ right off his face.

She dove forward and took his face between her hands, kissing him so hard and so thoroughly that he made a muffled sound of shock. He tried to bring his hand behind her back but she grabbed his wrist and shoved it down, pinning it to the bed beside him. She _needed_ this. She needed to hold him down and have her way with him, to relieve the tension that had been building in her body all week. Screaming hadn't helped. Tearing down trees hadn't helped. Not even breaking the Cat's jaw had really done more than make her wish she could have cracked her skull as well. But she could take out her aggression on his mouth, she could show him who was boss, she could pull away each time he tried to kiss back and leave him off-balance and unsatisfied, then pick a moment at random to let him capture her, just for second, just long enough to demonstrate his gratitude before she moved on. She could clamp teeth down on his bottom lip and feel his startled breath. Of all the battles she'd lost since the evening Gaara had called her into his office and informed her that she was getting married, this was one battle she could win.

She kissed him until she didn't feel upset or irritated anymore, until she could think of him without wanting to hurt him. Then she pulled away, leaving his eyes wide with astonishment and his mouth still slightly agape. She could only hope she hadn't looked _quite_ that witless after he kissed her. He laughed, a gasp of disbelief more than anything, and his eyes drifted from staring up at nothing to staring at her face.

"Say something," she said, adding a little extra sarcasm for the occasion.

He gave another bewildered laugh.

"Ow."

That's when she realized that her upper body was right on top of his.

"Oh!" she said, pushing up quickly. "Oh, sorry!"

He brought fingers to his stomach and probed there a little, grimacing. "Maybe baiting you in the hospital wasn't such a good idea."

"Are you okay?" she asked. "Do you need a medic?"

"Nah, I'm fine."

"You're not just trying to act tough, are you?"

"Probably a little."

"Well, don't," she said. "If there's something I can do for you, you should tell me."

He nodded, then reached behind her neck and pulled her toward him. "If you can find a way to kiss me like that again without hurting me, that would be good."

She laughed a little. "I doubt it will be quite that...explosive."

"I'll take it."

She put her hands on either side of him to support herself and keep her weight off his body, then leaned in and brushed her lips against his.

"Okay?"

"Mm-hm."

"Are you sure? Because I can stop if you-"

He cut her off in the way that she was already expecting, but that still had the power to throw her totally off-kilter. Now he was the one in charge, even though she was still above him, but she found that she needed _this_, too. She needed to let him have his way for a while, because his kisses were relieving an ache in her chest that had been there since day one. She'd never noticed it until now, or, if she'd noticed it, it wasn't until she could feel it dissolving that she was able to point a finger at it and label it for what it was: the worry that he never _would_ kiss her like this. That he'd never think of her as a real wife, only as one forced on him for sake of convenience. But the slight tremble in his fingers as they rested behind her neck was all the evidence that she needed that she couldn't have been more wrong. And the recognition of how close she'd come to never knowing he felt this way made her breath catch in her throat.

"Shikamaru..."

"Hm?"

"I'm glad you didn't die."

He looked at her seriously. "I'm glad you came for me."

"And, uh...for the record, I don't think your hair is ridiculous. It's actually really sexy."

It was another one of those comments that was out of her mouth before she'd had a chance to think about it. Even before she'd admitted it to herself. Unfortunately, it was true.

He gave one incredulous laugh. "What about my eyes?"

"Vacant."

"Ah."

"But that's okay," she said, giving in to her sudden need to touch his hair with her own fingers. "One of us has to have the looks, and one has to have the brains. Otherwise it's unbalanced."

"Huh. Guess I'm superfluous, then."

Stunned, she laughed. "What do you know. You _can_ flirt."

He turned pink at this, which looked good on him. It was the first real color she'd seen in his face since yesterday.

"That wasn't flirting," he said. "I just happen to think that you're...both..." His flush deepened. "Never mind."

"Flirt."

"_Not_ flirting. Flirting is something teen-aged girls do. _Ino_ flirts. _I_ do not flirt."

"So you're a _clueless_ flirt."

"Don't make me kiss you again to shut you up."

"Flir-"

She didn't even get to finish the word before he pulled her down angrily and covered her mouth with his, which was exactly what she'd been after. But right when he did, she heard the sound of the door swinging open. And an enthusiastic male voice filled the room, just before it trailed off in surprise.

**O O O**

Shikamaru found his lips suddenly and frustratingly unoccupied when Naruto burst in, tearing Temari's attention away. Great, just what he needed. His first make-out session interrupted by...well, anyone, really.

"Hey, guess what!" Naruto said. "I got...some...from..."

He stared at them with open shock, before a grin spread across his face.

"Should I come back later?"

"Yes," said Shikamaru, at the same time that Temari said, "You're fine." He shot her a look, trying to make her realize how _not_ fine it was. She just smirked at him.

"You guys should put a sign on the door warning for PDA," Naruto said, but he was already strolling over, and he plopped into an empty chair. He handed Shikamaru a small, fabric bag, and Shikamaru shook it a little. Wood tiles rattled around inside. Shougi pieces.

"I can't believe you found these," said Shikamaru. He opened the bag a dumped a couple out into his hand. Unstained, unfinished wood, blank on both sides and incredibly smooth. "I didn't think anyone was spending time and resources on stuff like this with all the rebuilding to do." It was true; Dad had been forced to bring a board back from Suna on the last trip, as heavy and unwieldy as they were.

"They're not," said Naruto. "So I asked Yamato. He whipped them out just like _that_." He snapped his fingers. "No time at all."

"Hey, good thinking," said Shikamaru. "Got a marker?"

"Yep."

Temari was watching this exchange with raised eyebrows, and it seemed that her curiosity had finally gotten the better of her.

"_What_ are you doing?"

Shikamaru nodded his head at Naruto and accepted the marker. "I'm going to teach him how to kick your butt at Shougi."

Temari's response to this was the same as Naruto's had been, skepticism written all over her face. He ignored it, though, and got to work on the Shougi pieces. It took him a minute to come up with a format he liked for cramming so much information onto one piece, but when he was done it looked good, and he showed it to Naruto.

"See?" he said. "This is the Kei." He pointed to the kanji near the top of the piece. Then he showed him where he'd written his own name below the kanji, and under that had drawn a simplistic, iconic representation of his head. "It's me, see? I'm the Kei." Naruto's eyes narrowed, and Shikamaru flipped the piece over. "When I'm promoted, I become the Narikei." He'd drawn his head on the other side as well, along with the kanji for his new rank. "Got it?"

"Okay..."

Shikamaru quickly filled out another piece with the kanji for Kin, then wrote Gaara's name below it and added a picture of Gaara, only recognizable because of his black-rimmed eyes and unkempt hair. Then he showed it to Naruto.

"Gaara," he said, as if it wasn't obvious.

He filled out a couple more. "The Gin is Hinata. And the Ryuu is Lee."

Naruto grinned. "The dragon."

"Right. And we have Neji and Kakashi and Iruka...who else can you think of?"

"Sasuke and Sakura."

"Okay." He filled those out and dropped them into his lap He'd made Sakura the other Gin, and Sasuke the Ou. The King. It felt a little cruel to do so, but he trusted that Naruto would grasp his reasoning. Drawing Sasuke was hard; he came out looking like a tool no matter what Shikamaru did.

He followed the pattern with the rest of the pieces, drawing the small caricatures that he used when delineating plans to his team, and putting Naruto's own face on all of the pawns. Once he had one complete set he handed the rest of the tiles to Temari. He was about to ask for the Shougi board, but she was already putting it in his lap and helping him set out the pieces: a normal set on one side, the new, specialized set on the other.

"These are your new tiles," he said, pointing to the set with the names and faces of Naruto's friends. "Your weakness in Shougi is the fact that you don't think it _matters_. You don't think of the pieces as real soldiers. But look at Hinata, here."

"Hinata?" Naruto plucked the tile from the board and studied the small drawing. His face was far more pensive than Shikamaru had been expecting, but he worked with it.

"You're sending her into battle, aren't you? And you're her captain. That means she's counting on you to give her the best orders, so that she isn't captured or killed. Right?"

Naruto nodded, still gazing at the piece.

"And so are your other subordinates. You're the only one that can protect them, because they're just doing what they're told. It's up to you to keep them safe. And the only way they can be completely safe is for you to defeat the Challenging King."

"Okay."

Shikamaru took the Hinata tile and replaced it on the board, then rearranged the pieces a bit so that her tile was put in immediate peril. He placed his own Kei tile so that one move would allow him to protect Hinata. "Sometimes it's necessary for a member of your team to sacrifice themselves," he said. He jumped his tile forward, blocking the opposing Ryuu's threat to Hinata. Then he allowed his own tile to be captured by the Ryuu in Hinata's place. He picked up the tile and showed it to Naruto. "I belong to the enemy, now, right?"

Naruto nodded. He looked quite upset by this development.

"But let's pretend that if you know I'm going to be captured, and you choose to put me in that position, then I can be rescued at the end of the game. It's a feint; we're just tricking the enemy to buy time or whatever." It wasn't exactly good battlefield logic, but Naruto's face said that he got it. It worked for the purpose of the game.

"But..." said Shikamaru. He used Hinata's tile to capture the Ryuu, which "inadvertently" put her right in the path of an opposing Kaku. Naruto saw the threat, and raised a hand to stop him, but Shikamaru left Hinata where she was. "But if you lose your piece to blindness, or accident, or poor planning..." He moved Kaku back to capture Hinata. "...then that piece belongs to the enemy forever. Killed or turned against their old village, to you it doesn't matter. They're gone, and you failed."

He glanced at Naruto's face; he was actually glaring at the board, jaw clenched.

"Only you will know what caused you to lose your teammate: a clever strategy, or being the victim of one. Sometimes you'll be forced to sacrifice a piece for the good of another, but the fact that you have no choice means that you lost that particular battle. And you're the one who has to live with your decisions. And another thing..."

Naruto faced him, eyes still hard.

"There's one piece on the board that can never be sacrificed, right?" He tapped the King. Sasuke. "If you lose your King, the game is over." He moved the Kaku that had just captured Hinata, then used it to capture Sasuke's tile. "If you lose the King..." He picked up the tile and showed it out to Naruto, then used slight of hand to make it disappear between his fingers. "...you don't get him back."

After a moment, Naruto gave one, stiff nod.

Shikamaru made Sasuke's piece reappear, then handed it to Naruto. "Why don't you give it a try? See if you can beat her, now." Then he realized that he'd never actually asked Temari if she'd be up for another game, but when he turned to her she was moving the board from his lap onto the table and putting the pieces back into starting position. What a woman. How he longed for privacy.

Naruto carried his chair around the bed and sat across the table from Temari, taking the special side while she took the standard.

"By the way," said Naruto, "I saw your dad. I think he's coming back this afternoon."

"Back?" Shikamaru asked.

"He's been here a couple of times," said Temari. "Most of yesterday, actually. That's when he brought the board, but nobody really felt like playing until this morning."

There it was, again: that chill in Temari's voice when she mentioned Dad. He'd let it go before, but this was something that needed to be addressed, company or not. Well, company required that he be a bit more cryptic about it, but he couldn't allow cold feelings to exist between the two most important people in his life. Not with the threat of war on the horizon.

"Temari..."

"Hm?" She was already concentrating on the game, eyes unblinking.

"Did something...happen?"

She didn't look at him, but he could see muscles tighten in her temple.

"Yeah. An extra two minutes before I could get to you."

"Wait...are you saying _he's_ the reason you..."

A curt nod.

Shikamaru opened his mouth; closed it again. That made no sense at all. Dad had known Shikamaru was planning on having Temari intervene; he'd told him so yesterday morning, right before he'd left to get his team into position. Why would he get in her way?

But he kept these thoughts to himself. Better to ask Dad directly than to stir up trouble. Dad definitely had his reasons; either he'd observed that Temari was _too_ unstable, or he'd been planning on coming in himself...it could be any number of things. Maybe Temari's arrival interfered with some other aspect of the plan that Shikamaru wasn't privy to. There was a lot of information he didn't have, so there was no reason to get stressed out about this. Not yet.

Besides, he was tired. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but making out with Temari had taken a lot of his energy. And he was starting to hurt, a dull ache in his stomach that wasn't scary, just uncomfortable. The analgesics must be wearing off, like Sakura had said, and he could feel his mood quickly going from blissful to sour. It occurred to him to wonder if he hadn't actually been a little doped when he'd kissed Temari.

But the _tick...tick...tick_ of Shougi tiles was soothing as few other sounds can be, and he caught himself dozing off and on despite his discomfort. After a while he heard the _click_ and _buzz_ of the bed controls; Temari was lowering it for him. He looked over to see her studying him, her face and lips _so_ close. Might as well be a hundred miles away.

And he was struck by how she seemed to know what he was needing, and supply it without being asked. Every time. The water and the juice and the ramen. Raising and lowering his bed. The Shougi board. They were little things, sure, but it was the little things that were his biggest challenge right now. And she provided them just as if she could see into his brain and pick out what he was needing. But it was because he was injured, maybe. She hadn't always done this, had she?

No sooner had he thought the question than the answer supplied itself: of course she had. He could remember a dozen times that she'd done something like this. Bringing him lunch just as he'd woken up in the inn that first day. At three o'clock, no less. Taking over for him in the argument with Dad when he hadn't really known _what_ to say. Always anticipating what he needed her to do the day he'd brought her to school, never making him ask her directly for help.

And now it was all folding out, the pattern of their interactions since the day he'd met her. Well, maybe not the first day; there'd been nothing helpful about her at the Chuunin exam. But every day since then. Coming to save him just as that Sound woman had been about to turn him into a twelve-year-old Chuunin statistic. Simply understanding his methods and reacting without question when they'd battled common enemies. It wasn't his injuries, it was _her_.

He didn't really know what to do with this information. It didn't jive at all with what he thought of when he pictured her: antagonism, stubbornness, bossiness...that was the image she always projected, with him more than anyone. And it could never be said about Temari that she was all talk; she meant what she said, and she was as dangerous as she appeared to be.

Trying to figure it out was making his head hurt. As if his body didn't hurt enough. Maybe he should just focus on sleeping.

"Jeez, Shikamaru," came Temari's voice, and he opened his eyes to see her staring down at him, clearly annoyed. "If you're in pain you need to _tell_ someone. Don't just lie there like a tough guy and deal with it; that's pointless when you know there are ten different people in this hospital that can fix it for you."

"'Tis masculine to tolerate," he said.

She cocked an eyebrow. "You just made that up."

"Not really. It's the unspoken motto of men."

"That's enough. You're being ridiculous and you should be resting. I'll get Sakura."

He almost said, "Yes, ma'am," again, but the thought grossed him out. It took him a second to figure out why; it was because that was the same thing Dad always said to Mom. He was going to have to make sure he avoided that phrase in the future, but for the time being, he settled on, "Thanks, boss."

She shook her head, but he could see a hint of a smile on her lips before she headed out of the room.

He heard a _tick_ of a tile. Naruto.

"How's it going over there?" Shikamaru asked.

"Pretty good, I think."

"How many soldiers do you have left?"

"Well...I lost all my pawns..."

Figures. Trust Naruto to sacrifice himself first.

"...but besides those I still have everyone except Kakashi-sensei and Neji."

"Sacrifices or prisoners?"

"Sacrifices."

"Good," said Shikamaru. "And how many pieces does Temari have?"

"Umm...six."

"What?" Shikamaru bolted up in bed before he could stop himself, in order to see the board. Pain caused him to suck air through his teeth. "Are you serious?"

He was serious. She had her King, a Narigin, and her two Kaku, one of which had been promoted to Uma. She'd also added "Kakashi" and "Neji" to her troops.

Naruto's drop tray was full of Temari's pieces, though, and none were in play.

"Did I fall asleep or something?" asked Shikamaru.

"Maybe. You've been quiet for a while."

"You can use her pieces against her, you know," said Shikamaru. As if he needed to; he was going to destroy her in a minute, anyway.

"I don't want to," said Naruto. "They're the enemy."

"So?" said Shikamaru. "So was Temari, four years ago. So was Gaara. You, of all people, should understand the concept of assimilating your opponents."

"I guess so," said Naruto. "Hey, you know...I think I'm going to win."

"You're going to win."

"Cool. Thanks."

"No problem. I hope Temari doesn't kill me, though."

"She won't," said Naruto. He wiggled his eyebrows. "But I'll bet she kisses you."

"Don't be weird," said Shikamaru. Embarrassment made him lower himself back onto the bed so that he would have to look him in the eye. "That's private."

"Not when you do it in a public place, it's not."

"Just 'cause I'm stuck here."

Naruto snickered.

**O O O**

Temari returned with Sakura in short order, who, upon examining Shikamaru, came the conclusion that he'd been "overexerting himself." This announcement made Naruto snort. It wasn't clear how Temari reacted; all Shikamaru heard was a smacking sound followed by in indignant, "Ow," and Sakura's eyes widened nervously.

She spent a few minutes using chakra to reseal his wounds, but she was hesitant to give him any more painkillers, what with the twenty-four hours he'd spent in a drug-induced coma. So she put her fingers against his temples and used a jutsu on him to try and help relieve what pain was left, then ordered him to take it easy, under the threat of spending more than the required two days in the hospital and forfeiting his flavored gelatin for dinner. She probably couldn't have known what a strong motivation those two things were; Shikamaru immediately reclined his bed in response and vowed mentally to do nothing more strenuous than to lie there and be kissed, should the opportunity present itself again.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the fleeting half-hour spent with Temari was the last of the privacy they would have. Word must have gotten out that Shikamaru was awake, because the visitors started coming by with little or no breaks in-between. Plus, Naruto was there the whole time, playing Shougi with Temari. It wasn't long before he beat her, and Temari conceded the loss gracefully, but she demanded a rematch, suggesting that she may have underestimated Naruto and needed another chance to take him seriously. And Game Two was on. It turned out to be good entertainment; Shikamaru's visitors inevitably ended up circled around the table, watching the two of them go at it. It didn't seem like Temari was going easy on Naruto; the ticking of the Shougi tiles was punctuated by disappointed groans, and even one shouted order to, "Put her back!"

Most of the visitors were people he knew well: Kurenai, looking pregnant enough to need to check into the hospital herself, Lee and Tenten, Kiba and Shino, Ino and Chouji, although a few were just acquaintances, like Ogawa-san. She gave him a large box of barbecue, and it physically hurt to have to give it to Chouji once she was gone, his stomach twisting in opposition.

And the flowers and baskets of fruit and paper cranes continued to arrive, many of them accompanied by cards signed by people he'd never met. But none of the arrangements was as notable as the monstrosity that was wrangled through the door by Shiho while Ino and Chouji were visiting. She put it on the floor under the window, then disappeared behind the end of the bed, and he could see the top of what looked like a small tree scooting along the wall with a scraping sound. Then she finally emerged, red-faced and disheveled. Her glasses were askew; she reached up and adjusted them.

"Don't want it blocking the outlet," she explained. "Could be a fire hazard."

He just nodded.

"It's from the cryptology department."

"Oh. Thanks. That's...nice of you."

She beamed. "I just heard, I mean, _we_ just heard you were in the hospital today. I didn't even know you were _sick_. We don't get a lot of gossip in the lab. I mean...news. You know; we're pretty secluded."

"Yeah, I know," he said.

"So." She blew a piece of stray hair out of her face, but it fell back immediately. "Are you feeling well?"

"Not too bad."

"That's good. You should focus on taking care of yourself. You know, if there's something you need you should ask for help. Don't try and do it all yourself."

"Okay." It was a funny thing for her to say, for a couple of reasons: one, he didn't think she actually knew why he was in the hospital, so it seemed like she was just throwing out platitudes that only applied because they were so generic. Two, she sounded _just like_ Temari, only without the bossy tone of voice.

"I mean," she blew at the hair again, then finally gave up and pushed it out of her face, "you know, I can help you, if you need anything. Anything at all. Just ask."

Which only reminded him of how strange and cool it was that Temari didn't even _have_ to ask.

"Okay, thanks."

"So, do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Need anything?"

Yes. Food, a hair tie, and a pair of pants.

"I think I'm good. Or I will be, once Sakura comes back with a fresh bag of saline for me to eat."

Shiho laughed at this, long enough and hard enough to make him wonder if what he'd said and what she'd heard were the same thing. "Wow," she said. "It's really impressive that you're able to keep your sense of humor in this situation."

"Temari," Naruto cut in, sounding impatient, "it's your turn. Hurry up so I can spring my trap!"

Shikamaru glanced over to see Temari leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, staring at Shiho with amusement. Ino was looking on, lips pursed in her classic "trying not to laugh" face.

"Hi, there," Temari said. Shiho turned to her, looking confused at being addressed by a stranger. But she gave a small smile.

"Hello."

"We haven't met, have we?"

"I don't..." Shiho shook her head a little. "I don't think so. I'm Shiho."

"Temari," she said, smiling. "_Nara_ Temari."

Shikamaru was stunned by her pointed use of his surname, and tried to fight the smile he could feel forming on his lips. _Nara _Temari_._ Those names sounded so good together, when he thought about it. Rolled right off the tongue. Nara Temari.

But Shiho just said "Nice to meet you" and turned back to Shikamaru, which made him wonder if she realized that Temari was his wife. They didn't get much gossip in the lab, she'd said. Did she even know he was married? He was only sixteen; might make more sense for Temari to be his cousin or something. He sighed; he was probably going to have to do the dreaded formal introduction to clear this up. So troublesome.

But Shiho was already talking at her usual mile a minute. It was like she was perpetually anxious or something.

"Right, so, just let me know, I mean, let _us_ know, meaning the cryptology lab, if you need help with anything while you're in the hospital. I just makes more sense for you to come straight to _me_, because we're already acquainted, but the important thing is that you don't strain yourself so you can get well."

"Shiho."

Shikamaru felt fingertips on the back of his hand; Temari was leaning forward wearing a smile that seemed to crackle. Shiho's eyes widened, and Shikamaru suddenly got the very uncomfortable feeling that he was in the path of something dangerous. Like a train.

"Yes?"

"I think I got it," said Temari, patting his hand. "But if he needs something decoded, I'll let you know."

Shiho drew back a little, blinking rapidly. She adjusted her glasses again. Swallowed.

"Oh," was all she said. Which made the fact that Temari had an answer very odd.

"Yeah."

"Well..." said Shiho, "I guess I should get back to the lab."

Temari had no answer for this comment, but her fingers left his hand. There was a _tick_ on the Shougi board.

"Ha!" said Naruto.

"Thanks for the...tree," said Shikamaru. He didn't know what else to say; the atmosphere in the room had changed drastically and he wasn't sure why.

Shiho only nodded; she was already backing out of the room. "Feel better soon."

Shikamaru opened his mouth to respond, but Temari beat him to it.

"Oh, he will," she said. "It was nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you," said Shiho, unconvincingly. She let herself out, and there were five full seconds of silence before Ino burst out laughing.

"What just happened?" Shikamaru asked.

"Weren't you paying attention?" asked Temari. "Some girl brought you a tree."

"Temari-san, you're scary," said Ino.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Checkmate!" yelled Naruto, to which Temari cursed in a very unfeminine way.

"I was distracted," she said. "Rematch."

"Any time, any place."

"Right here, right now."

Shikamaru groaned and rubbed his eyes. "Can we not have a rematch right this minute?" At this rate he'd never be alone with Temari. But he probably should have seen this coming when he started the Shougi rivalry.

"Oh, fine," said Temari, then she pointed a finger at Naruto's chest. "Later."

"Bring it."

After Naruto had helped Temari clean up the Shougi pieces, Ino and Chouji said their good-byes and headed home. Which left Shikamaru with one energetic, blond visitor. It wasn't that Shikamaru didn't want Naruto here; between them they'd developed something of a habit of keeping each other company during their various hospital stays. But Temari was standing so close, the material of her dress brushing the fingertips of his left hand, and what he really wanted to do was grab that material again and pull her back down. Just for a minute; he'd be happy with just a minute alone to kiss her. Now would be a really good time for Naruto to make a trip to the bathroom or something.

"Naruto," said Temari, reading his mind as usual. "Can you do something for me?"

"Sure."

"Go find Sakura and tell her that Shikamaru is ready for his gelatin."

"Pfft. You just want me to leave so you can make out."

"No, I want you to leave so you don't have to _watch _us make out."

Naruto raised his hands in surrender. "I'm going, I'm going."

"There's a good boy."

Temari stood still, watching Naruto until he'd entered the hall and the door had come to a complete close behind him. Then Shikamaru suddenly felt her weight hit him, her chest against his chest and her mouth on his, angled so that she wasn't undoing Sakura's handiwork. She kissed him frantically, like she was trying to cover all her bases before Naruto could come back, and Shikamaru allowed himself to lie there and take it, only participating enough to kiss back when she let him. What choice did he have but to let Temari's lips travel all over his face and take what they wanted? He was just following medic's orders.

"Is it just me..." she said, talking between kisses, "or was that the most torturous two hours of our lives?"

He had to wait for her to let up on his lips before he could gasp for air and answer her. "It's not just you."

"Mm."

"Are you going to explain what happened with Shiho, now?"

"Can't talk. Kissing."

"You can do both. I've seen it."

"Mm. Well..." Her lips moved down his jaw toward his neck. "She likes you."

"Huh?" Hard to think with a mouth on his throat. "Likes...what?"

"You. She likes you." He felt something warm slide along his skin: her tongue. It hurt in his gut when his stomach muscles clenched, but it was pain he happily tolerated. "She just needed a little clarification on your availability."

"Oh," he said. He sort of knew what she was talking about, now, but he'd already forgotten what the question was.

"How is it possible that you're this sexy in a hospital gown?"

He had no answer. The truth was, he was still struggling to reconcile her affectionate behavior with her personality. And his brain kept coming to the same conclusion: Does Not Compute. Speaking of possibilities, how was it possible that a woman who'd had nothing good to say about him before was now effusive with compliments? Embarrassing ones, at that. Not that he didn't appreciate it; he just didn't get it.

But he didn't have to answer, because she was kissing his mouth again. And there it was: that blissful, tranquil feeling. He almost couldn't handle how good life had gotten in the last day. He didn't want Naruto to come back, he didn't want Dad to visit, he just wanted to kiss his wife and get to know this woman who had so many more facets than he'd ever expected, and who, for some reason, seemed to love him.

But it wasn't to be. Because that was the moment that someone knocked on the door, and Temari pulled back with a flushed and frustrated expression. She sat up and adjusted her clothes, then asked, with a little more vehemence than was probably polite, "Who _is _it?"

The door cracked open, revealing a pair of pale eyes.

"It's Neji. Is Shikamaru feeling up to talking?"

"Yes," she sighed. "He's just wonderful."

He let himself into the room, then nodded to Shikamaru.

"I'm here on behalf of Hiashi-sama. He has a lot of questions, and he's hoping you can clear some things up for him."

* * *

**A/N2:** Told you; it was pretty fluffy. But I don't want y'all to get the idea that I was writing fluff for fluff's sake; I try to keep my fluff character-development oriented. :D But we'd had eight chapters of tension and arguing and...stuff that stresses me out, quite frankly. So now we have a chapter with a lot less of that. I think it was time. But things will be back to normal next chapter, with conversations with Neji and Shikaku. You know things are getting serious when the Hyuugas get involved. :)

And, believe it or not, I really did have this chapter ready yesterday. But storms blew up again and knocked out our power. This always happens to me; I live in the middle of Nowhere, Texas, and when it gets too windy I lose power/Internet. I guess I should just be glad I can get the Internet at all out here.

A quick point about where I'm coming from, regarding Japanese culture: When I'm writing something "just for fun," like a humor piece, I tend to throw Eastern/Western conventions to the wind. _Recent Photo_, for example, had references to _Maxim _and other non-Konoha products in it. That said, I take this story pretty seriously, and I take the fact that we're dealing with Japanese culture very seriously. So, a couple of romance-related Japanese conventions that you can likely expect me to adhere to:

1. No kissing in public. Parents don't even kiss in front of their children in Japan, it's so private. The first kiss is sacred, almost as important to a Japanese youth as their _other _first time. You know what I'm talking about. The reason I'm saying this is that a kiss stolen in the hospital room, and accidentally witnessed by Naruto, is the closet thing to PDA you're going to get in this story. For Temari to touch Shikamaru's hand in front of Shiho was pretty darn brazen. It's also a huge flag to Chouji and Ino, who are now well-aware that feelings have finally been exchanged. :D

2. This isn't a rule; it's just "the way it is." People don't really say "I love you," in Japan. I mean, technically, they almost never say "I love you" (Ai shiteru.) and they rarely say "I like you." (Suki desu.) For a Japanese person, showing that you love someone is more important; it's supposed to be obvious from your actions. So for Hinata to come out and say "I love you" to Naruto during the Pein fight is _huge_. Of course, you see more of that stuff in manga, but not _shonen _manga. I have no idea if what she actually said was "ai shiteru" or "suki desu" because I haven't seen the raw of that chapter, but it doesn't really matter; I tend to think that the reason Hinata said it is because she fully expected to die. And it makes a girl like me wonder why Naruto has never addressed it? Not that I think he should marry her and father her babies and everything, but you would think there would have been _one moment_ where he looked at her and thought, "What do I do with _this_?" And why hasn't he? Is it because of his personality? Is it because he's too focused on Sasuke and Madara and so forth right now? Did he repress it? Do we assume he thought about it in his spare time, and came to no conclusion? What do you all think?

Anyway, my point in mentioning the I love you "rule" was to say that, yeah, you're probably not going to get that particular confession out of Shika and Tema in this story. Or maybe I'll get sappy and put it somewhere at the end of the story; I have no idea. But if you listen closely, you can hear them: the "I love yous."

_"Shikamaru..."_

_"Hm?"_

_"I'm glad you didn't die."_

_"I'm glad you came for me."_


	10. Unobscured

**A/N**: Huh. This one came out a lot shorter than I thought. I think it's because it's mostly dialogue. See, I don't use word count, I go by the length of the document. And I think to myself, "Hey, twelve pages! That sounds good!" But when you have a lot of dialogue, you have a lot of paragraph breaks, which means fewer words per page, I guess. Oh, well. But, yeah, this chapter is pretty much a deluge of information, with very little introspection. Prepare yourself.

A quick note: to clarify, I will not be tackling Naru/Hina in this story. I just want to make that clear, because I do have some Naruto and Hinata interaction planned in future chapters. But I know how it is when you ship a couple; you see those moments and get hopeful. I am exactly the same way. So I just wanted to be clear on that from the get-go.

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

**Unobscured**

The weight of the world came with Neji as he entered, straight-backed and serious, which almost distracted Shikamaru from the fact that both Hinata and Hanabi were following right behind him. Hinata was carrying a vaseful of flowers; she searched for a place among his indoor garden, pushing leaves and stems this way and that, before finally giving up and putting her vase on the floor beside Shiho's tree. Neji stood at attention until Hinata stepped forward, then offered her the chair Naruto had been sitting in. He remained standing, and Hanabi stopped at the foot of the bed, watching Shikamaru with a measure of concern, which surprised him. While bright and studious, she'd never bonded to Shikamaru the way that some of the other children had. She seemed to attend school for one reason only, and that was knowledge, having no time for frivolous things like socialization.

"Shikamaru-sensei, will you be in the hospital much longer?" she asked without preface.

"Well," he said, "the medic thinks I might be able to leave in a couple of days." Assuming he could behave himself when he was alone with Temari.

"That's good to hear," she said solemnly; she spoke like a tiny adult. "Our substitute teachers have no patience, and no skill at at handling the unruly boys in our class. I'm tired of the disruption."

He gave her a smile. "Gorou?"

"It's always Gorou. He refuses to focus on the lessons."

"There's your problem," said Temari. "Shikamaru-sensei doesn't have lessons."

Hanabi turned her eyes on Temari, cool and assessing. "Temari-san, is it true that you saved Shikamaru-sensei?"

Temari smiled. "It's true. And it isn't the first time, either."

Hanabi's eyes narrowed a fraction. "So you're stronger than he is."

Temari glanced at Shikamaru, meeting his gaze. Then she cleared her throat. "I guess that depends on what kind of strength you're talking about," she said.

"I'm talking about the only kind that matters," said Hanabi. "The kind that allows you to win battles."

Shikamaru almost nodded. This was Hanabi. There was black, and there was white, and all the rest was noise.

"I think," said Temari, "that Shikamaru-sensei and I are equally strong."

"How can that be? You're two different people."

"I mean to say that our strengths complement each other. We win more battles together than alone."

Hanabi grew impatient. "But I'm asking who would win a _fight_ between the two of you. Not how well you work together."

To Temari's credit, she didn't lash out at the girl's sudden lack of respect. But there was definitely a glint in her eye.

"And what I'm trying to convey, Hanabi-chan, is that it doesn't matter, because we will never fight each other. Only side-by-side."

She didn't look convinced. "But what if Suna attacks us?"

Temari was silent for a moment, and he knew she was wondering the same thing he was. What was the meaning behind this question? Was it just honest curiosity, or had Hanabi heard something that no one in the Hyuuga household, aside from Hinata, should know?

"What makes you think Suna would attack Konoha?" she asked.

"I don't know," said Hanabi. "But they probably will one day, now that we're enemy villages. And if they do you'll have to fight against Shikamaru-sensei. Because you're from Suna."

"But now I'm a Konoha-nin. My loyalty is here."

There was a hint of disgust in Hanabi's curled lip, something Shikamaru had never seen in a child that young before. "I would never abandon my village that way," she said. "Better not to marry at all than to marry an enemy."

Temari looked like she'd had quite enough of Hanabi's precociousness. "Konoha wasn't an enemy when I married him, Hanabi-chan."

"Well, peace doesn't last for-"

"Hanabi-sama."

Neji's voice drew the attention of all, especially Hanabi. She stared up at him, eyes wide with something like respect.

"While I appreciate your contribution to the conversation," he said, "your father needs us all back home as soon as possible. I'm afraid I'm going to have to direct the questions from here."

Hanabi nodded once, turned cool eyes on the group at large.

"Also, Hanabi-sama, I was wondering if you'd do some investigation for me. I need a list of everyone that checked into this hospital in the last two days. Would you like to try and retrieve that?"

"Using which methods?"

"Whichever methods you deem appropriate. Although I'd ask you to refrain from immobilizing anyone."

"I'll do my best, Neji-nii-san."

"Thank you."

Hanabi left the room, and Neji visibly relaxed. It was subtle, but his shoulders dropped a little, knees softening.

"I apologize," he said. "This wasn't the time or place for those particular questions."

Which, Shikamaru noticed, was not the same thing as saying that she shouldn't have asked them at all.

"To be honest, it might not be the best time for mine, either," he said.

"I understand," said Shikamaru.

"Hiashi-sama is understandably curious to know your version of yesterday's events. The news came into the Hyuuga building through different sources, but the details never matched up."

"There's not much to tell," Shikamaru admitted. "Danzo called me into his office to clear up the 'problems' with Temari's citizenship..."

Neji's eyebrows raised. "So he did approve the marriage, after all."

"Well, yeah," said Shikamaru, "but at that point did it really matter? He had me attacked not five minutes later."

"In the stairwell."

He nodded. "By a woman dressed as Anbu. Her personality was very characteristic of Root, though. I was wounded; Temari got there just in time to get me to the hospital. I would have died if she hadn't been there, and no one would know a thing. Danzo probably would have had my body disposed of and I would just be a missing-nin."

Neji's eyes narrowed. "So Danzo wasn't actually present for the attack."

Shikamaru scoffed. "Of course not. Is that what people are saying?"

"Some are. The story keeps changing."

"No," said Shikamaru. "He didn't get his hands dirty."

Neji glanced at the door, seemed to satisfy himself that they wouldn't be interrupted. Then he lowered his voice. "I'm going to be frank," he said. "I trust you. I have no reason to believe that you're lying to me. But your story is missing one key piece of information, and until I have it I have no choice but to remain skeptical."

"And that piece of information would be...?"

"_Why_ the Rokudaime would attack you in the first place. It's ludicrous of you to expect me to believe that the fear of having Temari-san in our village would be strong enough to cause him to act in ways that would dissolve his base of support. Do you realize how concerned Hiashi-sama must be, to send me here today?"

Shikamaru wanted to sigh, but he stifled it and nodded instead. He knew where this line of questioning was going, and the problem was that he still hadn't decided whether or not Neji should know the whole plan.

But Neji saved him from having to make the decision.

"This is what it comes down to, Shikamaru: I know you better than most of the people in this village. I've served under you, and I've also had the pleasure of having you serve on _my_ squads. And when you come home with a wife at sixteen, it makes me wonder what happened to the Nara Shikamaru I thought I knew. You may expect the rest of the village to believe that you would voluntarily get married so young. I don't."

Hinata briefly caught Shikamaru's eye and gave him an apologetic look, and he felt his control over the situation, if he'd ever had any, slipping away. Dad wasn't here to tell him whether or not Neji was safe to confide in, but he had to let instinct guide him. And one thing Dad had said two days ago was that the most important thing for Shikamaru to do was to be transparent. He couldn't redirect or lie to Neji right now; Neji would know. That left him with with no other options.

"You're right," he said. "It was an order to marry Temari." Temari glanced back at him, eyebrow raised, and he hastily added, "Not that I regret it."

Neji sighed, actually leaning against the wall a bit. It was probably the least guarded Shikamaru had ever seen him.

"That just begs the question, doesn't it?" he said. "You certainly weren't following Danzo-sama's orders."

"They were my father's."

Neji looked up at Temari. "I'm going to assume that you got your orders from someone else. The Kazekage?"

"Yeah."

He lifted a hand to his face, covering his eyes. Exhaled.

"How long do we have?" he asked.

"We don't know exactly. Suna's waiting word from Dad, but he hasn't told us when."

He nodded, then dropped his hand. "Are you expecting me to keep this from Hiashi-sama?"

"I don't know," he said. Then he sighed and ran his hands down his face. "I don't know _anything_. You know as much as Temari and I do, at this point. We're solidifying our relations with Suna and taking down Danzo. That's all we've been told."

"Which puts you in a difficult position."

"You have no idea."

"Neji-nii-san," said Hinata, "please don't mention this to my father. Shikaku-san is going to tell him soon, but..." She glanced around at the group self-consciously, as if suddenly realizing she was the center of attention. Then she finished in a smaller voice, "...but he's not ready yet."

Neji stared down at her. Blinked once.

"How do _you_ know about this?"

Guilt flashed in her eyes, and they dropped to her lap. "I've been working for Shikaku-san," she said.

"Hinata-sama," he said, voice quiet with disbelief. "Do you know the ramifications of that?"

She said nothing.

"You're the Hyuuga _heir_. To act independently of your father..."

"...should make it clear to you how important I think this is," she finished for him. "My loyalty to Konoha is greater than my loyalty to my father. To _anyone_ else."

It was something of an explosion for Hinata, and she dropped her eyes to her lap again in embarrassment.

"But with all due respect, Hinata-sama, my concern is specifically over whether or not this is best for the village. Is a regime change really in their best interest, considering how much danger a war will put them in?"

"My dad thinks he can do it without loss of life," said Shikamaru. "And I trust that he can."

"No offense to your father..." he began, and he glanced around at the white walls, at the forest of "get well" flowers. "But have you noticed where you are?"

"Yes. I'm in the hospital. Which is a lot better than a hole in the ground."

He felt fingers brush his knee through his blanket. He couldn't see Temari's hand or her face from this angle; she was sitting beside him on the bed, but facing Hinata and Neji instead. But her fingers reminded him of what she'd said before: _I'm glad you didn't die_. They were saying it all over again. It was reassuring to know that she felt that way even when they weren't in the process of kissing each other, but it was frustrating to be unable to respond. His hand was quite close to her, as well, but it was nearest to a part of her body that she might not appreciate him touching. Even if it _was_ just to say, I'm glad you came for me.

"I don't know," said Neji. "I understand your position; I'm not going to say that the idea of supporting a hokage that would try and have you assassinated just to protect his job is one that appeals to me. But I need to talk to Hiashi-sama about this."

"Assassinated?" asked Temari. There was a hint of laughter in her voice. "What do you know, Shikamaru? You're moving up in the world."

"How exciting for me."

"Who else knows about this?" asked Neji, and Hinata glanced up at Shikamaru. In that instant, he could see the same resolve in her eyes that he was also feeling: that it was one thing to admit to treason, but something quite different to implicate other people.

So neither of them responded. And after a moment Neji nodded with grim, if slightly insulted, acceptance.

"Don't take it personally," said Shikamaru. "It's not you I'm worried about."

"No, I understand. I'm not so much offended as I am frustrated that it's come to this."

Shikamaru had to agree.

Then door swung open and Hanabi walked in, followed by Naruto and Sakura. Hanabi was carrying a file, but with none of the arrogance characteristic of a young ninja student successful on a mission. Shikamaru assumed that the only emotion she would have displayed would have been disgust at failure. It was as if succeeding was simply expected.

"There haven't been many patients admitted in the time frame you specified, Neji-nii-san," she said.

"That's fine," he said. "Your father will be pleased, nonetheless."

Shikamaru had to ask, although once again he felt burdened by present company to be as obscure as possible with his language.

"Are you looking for the same person we're looking for?" he asked.

"Yes," said Neji. "If she was injured, there's a chance she was admitted."

"Oh, she was injured," said Temari, "but I think it's a lot more likely that she was treated privately.

"Just covering our bases."

Sakura approached Shikamaru with a white plastic bowl that could only mean one thing: food. The minute he laid eyes on it, it was as if the burden of secrets and treason were nothing at all. Food was here, and his basic human instincts were overriding such unimportant matters as a reclamation. He knew it was ridiculous; he had an IV pumping into his arm, didn't he? But it was as if his stomach was saying, "It won't matter what happens tomorrow if you starve to death today." And he was in hearty agreement.

"Hope you like lemon," said Sakura.

As if it mattered.

She placed the bowl of gelatin on his table and rolled it until it was above him, then handed him a spoon.

"Take it easy, okay?" she said. "Don't inhale it. You can have more in an hour if it goes down easily and stays there." Then she turned to the Hyuugas and smiled. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to come back another time. We're having an experiment."

Hinata stood from her chair and bowed a little. "Get well soon, Shikamaru-kun."

"Mm," he said. His mouth was already full of gelatin. It was, without a doubt, the most delicious thing he'd eaten in his entire life, and he didn't even _like_ sweet stuff.

"I'll be back to speak with you as soon as I can," said Neji. "If I can."

He understood. There was every chance that the Hyuugas would decide not to support Dad and the reclamation. If that happened, it would no longer be possible for Shikamaru to meet with Neji _or_ Hinata. Even if Neji made the same choice Hinata had, to act on his own, he would still have an image to maintain. Public interaction between them would drop to nil.

Sakura gave Shikamaru another stern warning to take it slow with the gelatin, then followed the Hyuugas out, which left him alone with Temari and Naruto again.

"What do you think he's going to do?" asked Temari.

"I'm not sure," said Shikamaru. "I'd like to think that he'd join us, but he'll have a lot of pressure on him from his family."

"His superiors."

"Right."

"You don't have to worry about Neji," said Naruto, eyes flashing. "He's on our side."

Shikamaru ate his gelatin without responding. It was in Naruto's nature to be so optimistic about people, which had its upsides and its downsides. But in critical moments such as these it was better to be a little cynical, so that you wouldn't be blindsided by someone you thought you could trust.

"What if he doesn't join us?" asked Temari. "Is he the type to rat us out?"

"No," said Shikamaru. "That's not a decision he'd make on his own. He'd leave it up to Hiashi."

There was a heavy silence in the room that was enough to out a damper on his enjoyment of his gelatin. The truth was that this hospital room provided a sense of surreality in the midst of severity. It was easy to pretend, with his food and his woman and his current lack of responsibility, that he was safe, that all of the particles of his life weren't rushing toward an epic collision.

So leave it to Naruto to scoot his chair over to the bed and begin setting up the Shougi board with a devious look on his face.

"You and me," he said.

"Me?" asked Shikamaru. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah. You said I'd never lose again."

Shikamaru let a laugh escape. "That's not what I said."

But Naruto was insistent, so Shikamaru finished his gelatin while he got the board ready.

Ten minutes later, an extremely disgruntled Naruto put it away.

**O O O**

It was nearing dinnertime when Naruto finally went home, which left Shikamaru and Temari with about three glorious minutes alone. Shikamaru continued with his efforts to move as little as possible and let her have her way with him, but she irritated him by being way too careful with him, as if she were taking Sakura's orders even more seriously than he was.

"It's not my mouth that's injured, you know," was what he told her, to which she only smiled.

And then Dad walked in, which he'd pretty much already expected. It was starting to feel like everyone he knew was in on some sort of cruel plot to keep him from having too much time with Temari, but it's not like he hadn't known Dad was coming. And it was dinnertime; visiting hours would be over soon. It was either come now or not at all.

Dad brought food from Mom for Temari, which she took graciously. Shikamaru suspected it had more to do with her loyalty to Mom than her respect for Dad, though, but he was glad that the atmosphere stayed congenial.

Dad seated himself beside the bed, and for the first time in Shikamaru's life, he noticed a hesitance as Dad lowered himself. A slowness. An awkward bend in the knees. For the first time, Dad seemed like and old man. But how could that be? Dad couldn't be _old_; he was only in his forties. Shikamaru was still a kid, at least in the sense that he depended on his parents for things like housing him and washing his clothes and preparing his meals.

But when he looked at Temari, he realized that _she_ hadn't been a kid in years. She didn't have a mom to wash her socks or get mad when her room wasn't clean. And he'd married her. Not to be _his_ mom, but to be his wife.

And there was no way that they'd continue to live at home once the reconstruction was done. They'd move out as soon as they had a chance; he doubted Temari would stand for less. In fact, if things progressed without interference he might actually have a kid of his _own_ before a year had passed.

Which would make Dad a grandfather.

Shikamaru studied his father, noting how tired his eyes were. The strands of gray at his temples. He didn't know if it was really age making him look that tired; it was probably due at least in part to the stress of organizing the reclamation and the threat of being discovered. But the fact was, something major had shifted in the order of things in his family. Shikamaru couldn't really call himself a kid any more, whether or not he felt like one. He'd been thrust forward, promoted overnight from kid to husband. Not a father, yet. No child to push Dad into Jii-chan's old role of grandfather. And yet the sentiment was the same, and it was something that Shikamaru couldn't deny. _He_ was Dad, now. And, in many ways, Dad's time had passed.

And suddenly he felt embarrassed, and regretful, that the weight of all of this was on Dad's shoulders. It's not that Dad was weak or useless, but Shikamaru couldn't help but feel like he and his contemporaries had really dropped the ball on this issue. Neji was an exception; he was beholden to Hiashi. But that wasn't true for people like Naruto or Sakura. For Chouji or Ino or Kiba. And there was no excuse for the way that they'd all rolled over and played dead under Danzo's command. No excuse for letting it go this far. _None_ of them were kids anymore, and it was time they stopped expecting the "grown-ups" to take care of all of their problems.

Dad grunted a little as he got settled in his chair. "Your mother will be here to see you in the morning," he said.

"Okay."

"She's not taking this well," he said. "Not that I blame her."

"She had to know something like this would happen to me eventually."

"Well, I suppose she's always considered the possibility that you might be injured or KIA, but I don't think she ever suspected that I would be to blame." Dad's brow grew heavy, and he let out a long, weary sigh. "I'm sorry that you're in here, Shikamaru."

Shikamaru wanted to give the standard "It's not your fault," but in this case saying such a thing would just be disingenuous. He didn't know whether Dad was feeling guilty over the danger Shikamaru was in because of his role in the reclamation, or if he was more specifically regretting holding Temari back yesterday. But, regardless, he was right; it was his fault Shikamaru had been wounded. That didn't mean it wasn't necessary, though.

Shikamaru yawned and stretched his arms a little, trying to work out his stiff, aching shoulder. "It's fine," he said. "Looks like I'm going to live to be beaten again someday."

Dad smiled a little, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm doing my best to make sure that doesn't happen."

Through all of this, Temari was silent. She was eating her bento, focused intently on every single bite, never looking in Dad's direction. Shikamaru doubted that it was accidental, and it felt like something he was supposed to be trying to fix. But he had absolutely no idea how to go about doing that.

So he brought up another subject, hoping Temari would get interested and participate.

"Neji was here," he said.

Dad nodded. "I spoke with Hiashi this morning and encouraged him to come see you. I'm glad he did, even if it was through Neji as a proxy."

"I told him about the reclamation."

"Did you."

"He figured most of it out on his own, but, yeah."

"That's fine," said Dad. "I'll be talking to Hiashi myself pretty soon. It won't be a point of contention for long."

"What do you think the Hyuugas are going to do?"

"I think that, ultimately, they'll join us. It may be a last minute decision, though. Speaking of which, Suna is on their way."

Temari glanced up from her bento. "Already?"

"I know it doesn't seem like it from the outside, but we're getting very close. And Danzo's getting desperate; Chouza's team stopped a second attack on you last night. Danzo knew you were both in the hospital, and he tried to take advantage of that."

Shikamaru glanced at Temari, who was staring at him with wide eyes.

"You were here last night?" he said.

She shrugged, as if that wasn't the important thing. "You were critical."

"Where did you sleep?" He brain conjured images of her crammed onto his tiny bed beside him while he was unconscious, which didn't seem likely.

She snapped her fingers. "Knew I forgot something."

Huh. She'd been awake with him all night. Guess she'd had plenty of time to think, if nothing else.

"So," said Dad, "Suna will be here in five days, although I'm expecting Kankuro sooner than that. He'll be the liaison between the armies once Suna is traveling and can't receive transmissions."

Suddenly, it occurred to Shikamaru what Dad had said before. "What do you mean, Danzo knew we were both in the hospital? How do you know what Danzo knows?"

"We have an informant among Danzo's ranks. He isn't as close to Danzo as he used to be, but he's been a wealth of information at great personal risk."

"But who could it possibly be?" asked Shikamaru. "Can't be Root. Even if they could be persuaded to care, they _can't_ talk about Danzo."

"Very true," Dad said seriously. "But one can learn a lot from the things that can't be said."

Shikamaru could only think of one member of Root who had any sort of bond with Team Kakashi, and who might possibly choose to betray Danzo in favor of the coup.

"Sai?" he asked, more to himself than anyone else, but Dad gave half a smile.

"That I couldn't say."

They chatted for a little while, made small talk while Temari sat in virtual silence. It was a mark of the fact that they both knew how dire things had been for Shikamaru that they were both willing to talk for talking's sake. Eventually, though, Temari excused herself to go down to the coffee machine, leaving Shikamaru alone with Dad. He didn't waste the opportunity.

"Why did you stop her?" he asked. "You knew I was waiting for her."

Dad nodded. "I knew. You had it figured to the minute, didn't you?" He actually sounded a little proud, which only confused Shikamaru more.

"So, then, why?"

"I was counting on her being late. She wasn't late."

The answer made him uneasy. It wasn't like Dad to play dumb like this, which meant he really, really didn't want to tell him the truth.

So he caught Dad's eye and held it. This was one time when he wasn't going to stand for being kept in the dark.

Dad exhaled heavily. Sank back into his chair. "I always knew Danzo was going to try and have you killed, Shikamaru. Long before I sent you to Suna, your mother and I knew this would be the result. And we also knew that the attacks would be the most crucial part of our campaign. It was necessary to let Danzo dig his own grave yesterday. There's no need to continue to allow the attacks to get through; the damage to his reputation has largely been done. But one was necessary. And if Temari had stopped it, we would have been forced to allow the next one."

Shikamaru sat in stupefied silence for a long minute. Not stupefied that Dad had allowed it, but stupefied that he hadn't seen this coming a mile away. Of _course_ an attempt on his life would do the most damage to Danzo's reputation. But never in a million years would it have occurred to him that Dad would purposely put him in that much danger. Because he trusted him.

He was trying not to get angry; he knew that Dad was only doing what he had to to protect the citizens of Konoha. It couldn't be easy for a father to give his son up for sacrifice, to possibly lose him forever. And what was Shikamaru's life, if not a sacrifice for the people?

But he couldn't help it. He _was_ angry, largely because he felt so helpless. Because he'd been lied to, instead of simply trusted.

"Why didn't you just _tell_ me?" he asked.

"There are a lot of reasons I couldn't tell you," said Dad. "But the main one is because I needed you to have a genuine reaction to the attack. You've been under extreme scrutiny by the Hyuugas, probably more than you know. And Neji, in particular, is unmatched in his ability to detect deceit. Until he'd spoken to you today, it wasn't possible for you to know that the climate around the attack had largely been controlled for your maximum safety. For example, Ino was waiting on the bottom floor, just out of sight, to come in after you should Temari not show up on time, or to help Temari if she did. You were in danger, but not nearly as much as you _thought_ you were."

"So, you didn't tell me so that I could lie to _Neji_."

"No," said Dad. "The things that matter are still true. Danzo still wants to kill you, only now that the citizens are losing faith in him he has less motivation to do it on the sly. Neither you nor Temari, nor anyone else, for that matter, will be safe until Danzo is replaced."

Shikamaru didn't respond. No wonder Dad felt guilty that Shikamaru had ended up in the hospital. It was humiliating to think back on yesterday morning, when he'd been calmly giving his plan to Dad, never realizing that the whole time he fully intended to sidestep it if necessary.

But even more annoying than that was this stupid feeling of guilt. He'd had this conversation not six hours ago, with Temari. Only he'd been on the other side of it. And, yes, he had to admit that it sucked being the puppet. Which only supported his resolve to never deceive her again. It wasn't worth the nagging, for one thing. But she was right; it _was_ cruel.

"Shikamaru." Dad's voice was gruff, and Shikamaru looked up at him, trying to hide his irritation. "You're alive," Dad said. "And everything is moving along smoothly. Don't let anger or mistrust cloud your judgment or hinder your ability to follow orders. I told you both that I would give you information as soon I possibly could, and I've done that. Right?"

Reluctantly, Shikamaru nodded.

"Remember why we're all fighting," he said. "Besides, this will all be over in a few days, anyway."

"I guess."

Temari returned with her coffee, but this time she sat beside Shikamaru on the bed again, instead of in her chair. He found that he rather liked having her there; it seemed to calm him a little.

"And now, Temari..."

Dad sat up in his chair and faced her, and she stared at him with rapidly blinking eyes. Shikamaru's warning alarm went off; he sensed confrontation on the air and here he'd been hoping to make it through this little gathering without Temari's claws coming out. He resisted the urge to cover his face with his pillow and hide.

"We need to talk about what happened yesterday," Dad said.

"Are you referring to the time you tried to stop me from protecting my husband?" she asked, all ice and arrogance. He could feel her disdain like a cold slither in his own stomach.

"I'm talking specifically about the way you ignored my orders."

"You _can't_ order me; we're both jounin."

"I'm the Jounin Hanchou."

She gave a derisive laugh. "That's a representative position. Try again."

"All right," Dad said, leaning forward in his chair. Suddenly his tone matched Temari's, note for icy note. "I'll try this, then. _I_ am in charge of this rebellion. That means that any and all responsibility, and therefore any and all blame, for what happens during the time prior to Danzo's replacement is on my shoulders. By following your brother's orders you made the decision to join us. And we welcome you if you still want to be a part of our efforts. But you _will_ recognize that the only authority that matters to you, until the moment Kakashi wears the robe, is mine."

Temari was frozen, hand clenched around her coffee can until her knuckles were white. Shikamaru didn't know what to say; indeed, he was wishing that he was anywhere else, and not witness to her chastisement. It was awkward, and uncomfortable, and he _really_ didn't want to have to be forced to choose sides. So he did the next best thing to getting up and walking out: he dropped his eyes to the table in front of him and kept them there. He didn't want anyone trying to catch his gaze. It was the coward's way out, but he was okay with that.

"Please make a decision," said Dad. "Either you follow Danzo, or you follow me."

"I'm aware of my choices," she said. She sighed loudly, then said, in a defeated and disgusted voice, "I'll honor your orders in the future, Shikaku-san."

"Thank you," he said. He stood from the chair, once again drawing Shikamaru's attention to how long it took him to get to his feet. "I have to go; your mother is anxious for a report on you. Did Sakura tell you when you'll be going home?"

"Day after tomorrow."

"I'll let her know." He bowed slightly to Temari, who returned the bow mechanically. Then he headed for the door.

Once he was gone, silence grew between the two of them. He guessed she was embarrassed; he knew _he_ was, but he didn't want things to remain weird forever. So he reached his hand over the blanket until his little finger brushed hers. He felt hers move slightly in response.

After a moment, she said, "How long until we have our own house?"

He laughed once. "At this rate, forever."

"Figures."

Shikamaru glanced at the clock on the wall: ten 'til seven. Visiting hours were almost over, which left a great, big, giant question mark hanging in the air over them both. She'd stayed last night, hadn't she? Did that mean spouses didn't have to adhere to visiting hours? Maybe she'd want to stay again. Just for a little while. It's not like they'd had any time alone to speak of all day.

Although, a part of him dreaded the first serious time they would be alone. For one thing, he was afraid that she'd insist on "talking about" what had happened between them today. That seemed like a woman thing to do. _He_ was not interested in talking about it _at_ _all_. It had happened, it spoke for itself, there was no need to delve into monologues about "what it meant" and "where we're going from here."

But he had to admit, he did wonder. Just a little. Where _were_ they going from here? No, that wasn't the real question. He had to assume he knew where they were going. The _real_ question was "when?" When would they get there?

"So..." he said.

"Yeah?"

He caught her eye and tried not to be embarrassed. It was just a _question_. There were no underlying meanings unless you insisted on searching for them.

But he ended up looking away again, his gaze falling somewhere among the flowers on the other side of the room. "Do you have to leave at seven?" he asked. She didn't answer right away, which forced him to look at her to see what she was thinking.

The grin on her face made him more humiliated than he'd ever been in his life.

"What?" he asked, annoyed. Did she _have_ to look at him like thought she could read his mind?

"I can't stay," she said. "No visitors after seven if you're stable."

"Not even spouses?"

"No."

"Oh. So, _now_ you follow rules?"

She raised an eyebrow at him and he realized his mistake: he was putting way too much effort into something that he wasn't supposed to care about. Irritating woman. _Noticing_ things.

"I wouldn't stay, anyway," she said. "_You're_ not allowed to engage in any strenuous activities."

"Doesn't have to be that strenuous," he said, which made her cackle at him and made his face warm. "I'm talking about kissing!" he said, a little too loudly.

"Uh-huh," she said. "_Kissing_."

"Are you going to kiss me, or are you just going to keep laughing at me all night? We're running out of minutes."

She spent the last ten minutes kissing him so thoroughly that he had no choice but to concede to himself that he would be a lot happier if he could have her here with him tonight, engaging in as many strenuous activities as she'd let him get away with. But she disentangled herself at seven sharp, stating that Ino and Sakura were waiting to walk her home.

"Good thing I'll have my entourage of dangerous ladies," she said.

"Don't underestimate them," he said.

She stuffed some trash into the ramen bag and turned to go. The sight of her walking away stirred something painful in him; it was the fear that something would happen to her during that night and that she would never come back. It was intolerable to be stuck in this bed, useless, and unable to keep an eye on her. He didn't want to let her go.

"Temari, _stay_," he said, just as she reached the door. "I don't care about the rules, okay? Sakura will understand; she'll probably even roll an extra bed in here for you if you ask. We'll put them across the room from each other, just like at home. No strenuous activities."

He held his breath while she watched him, paper bag dangling from one hand. Eventually she sighed, and reached up to push open the door.

"Temari-"

"Chill," she said. "I have to find Sakura and beg her for a bed. And..." Her bottom lip retreated into her mouth. "...maybe Ino will bring me some pajamas. I'll be right back."

Relieved, he exhaled and sank back into the bed. But he wasn't able to fully relax until she finally walked back in, followed by a bemused Sakura rolling a cot.

"You're going to get me fired," she said.

"But we all know that the safest thing is for me to be here, so that the nin Shikaku has watching us don't have to divide their forces. Right?"

"You can stop," Sakura said. "You already won your argument."

Temari grinned victoriously.

"But do try to remember that medics will be in and out all night, checking on Shikamaru."

"Don't worry," said Temari. "We won't embarrass them too much."

Sakura left Temari to set up the cot, and once Ino arrived with the clothes, snickering, Temari disappeared into the bathroom to change into them.

True to the deal, there were no strenuous activities that night. Not that it was feasible, anyway. Medics came in at random times to check his vitals, and besides, the room was under surveillance. And it didn't have curtains.

But that's not to say that there weren't a few languorous activities, slipped in between the medics' visits. Mostly in the form of stolen kisses. There did end up being quite a lot of talking, although none of it was of the horrifying "where is our relationship going" variety. Instead, he found out that Temari hated cooking, and was informed that if he wanted anything more complex than rice and miso in the future he would have to make it himself. And he learned that she did like the idea of children, but was nervous about bringing kids into a family with two shinobi parents. Then he discovered that the only thing she was really scared of, even after all the battles she'd been in, was grasshoppers.

"_Grasshoppers_?"

"Uh, _yeah_. You never know if they're going to jump or fly. How is that _not_ scary?"

Shikamaru probably told her a few things about himself, too, but he found that he liked it best when she was talking, not nagging or teasing, but just talking to him while he lay there with his eyes closed. He fell asleep that way at one point, and he woke up during the medics' next visit to find her zonked out in the cot, right next to his bed. It wasn't strenuous activities, but in the grand scheme of things he couldn't complain about having Temari beside him, and knowing that she was safe.

And he learned something else that night, too. He learned that, while mind-boggling, it was entirely possible for the bossy, terrifying, troublesome Temari to exist in the same body as the one that kissed him without restraint or excuse or provocation.

And that they were, in fact, the very same person.


	11. Unsatisfied

**Chapter Eleven**

**Unsatisfied**

"This is kind of..."

"Cute?"

"_Weird_. Feels less like surveillance and more like peeping."

"If it makes you uncomfortable, you can look somewhere else. I'll keep an eye on them."

"Thanks. But I'll be okay as long as..."

"As long as what?"

"As long as they stay dressed, I guess."

"Aw, come on, Chouji. You had to see this coming. They're in love. Eventually they're going to...you know."

"Yeah, I know. But I sure hope they wait until someone else is on watch."

**O O O**

The second day in the hospital passed much like the first. It wasn't until the morning of the third day that Sakura cleared Shikamaru to get up and move around the room, and only after carefully examining him to make sure his wounds were still sealed and healing normally. He was able to walk with minimal discomfort, and he took the first opportunity to change into some normal clothes and get rid of the horrible hospital gown. Good riddance.

Temari was there through it all, her eyes on him as he was taking his first tentative steps. Things had changed since his first day in the hospital, but not in an unexpected way. They'd spent that whole day vigorously making up for all the fighting and sarcasm of their first week together, but now they seemed to be reaching an equilibrium. He could see it in her eyes as a reflection of his own feelings, that despite all the kissing and talking and mind-reading, they were still Shikamaru and Temari. They were still a couple of highly stubborn people that were going to butt heads over a lot of stupid things during the course of their lives. And kissing Temari probably wouldn't always shut her up. But they cared about each other. _He_ cared about _her_. And he wanted a lot of things for their marriage. He wanted her to be happy so that she wouldn't fight with him, for one thing. And he wanted something else, something he felt ashamed for being so interested in, even though it was a perfectly normal and natural part of being married: he wanted her to sleep in _his_ bed tonight. He wanted to spend his first night home having his wife beside him. And although falling asleep next to her was in his plans, it wasn't his most important goal.

But it didn't know if that was going to happen like he hoped, because Temari hadn't given him any particular indication that she was ready for the same. She'd been physical with him for sure, but he felt like that was more the product of her aggressive personality than an out-of-control libido. Just because they were married, it didn't mean that two days of making out was enough to make a woman comfortable with the idea of sex. He had no _clue_ what women needed or expected when it came to that topic. And he couldn't even say for sure that Temari fit into the normal category of women, but it would likely be a huge, amateurish mistake to assume that just because she talked and acted like a man that her sex drive would be similarly motivated.

But it was on his mind as he helped Temari pack up their stuff in preparation to go home. And he found himself paying closer attention to things that he'd probably always noticed, but that had been so far out of the realm of attainable for him that he'd never bothered to dwell on them. Like her body. He wasn't in the habit of studying women's bodies, but now that he was studying hers he came to the conclusion that it was the most perfect one he'd ever seen. Not thin and scrawny by any means, but not unrealistically out of proportion, either. She was small where she needed to be, but bigger in all the places that mattered. Plus, Temari was unique in the way she displayed it. Shikamaru's experience so far had been that the skinny girls, whose bodies he'd prefer never to see, were the ones most likely to wear the least clothes, whereas the girls who probably had interesting curves tended to keep them covered. Temari kept herself covered well enough, but everything about her clothes seemed intentionally designed to draw attention to her shape. A sash wrapped tightly around her waist. The way her neckline was as low as a woman could legally wear in public, yet the view was always blocked by a flak pad or some other article of clothing. Not an unnecessary inch of her skin was exposed, but she still gave the impression that she purposely dressed this way to remind men everywhere of what they'd never get to see. He hadn't thought of her as the kind of woman to care how she dressed, but now he could see that she put more consideration into it than most of the girls he knew.

He wondered if he'd ever get used to being wrong about her.

"What are you staring at?" she asked, looking back over her shoulder at him.

"Just wondering if your clothes are packed yet."

Once the room was clean, Shikamaru continued to walk around. Keeping himself moving while they waited for their "escorts." Dad insisted on sending a couple of ninja to follow the two of them home, as they were now under near-constant attack, and while Shikamaru was mobile, he still wasn't in top-fighting form.

So he walked. Stretched. And as he did, he thought about his conversation with Dad. Shikamaru still hadn't told Temari what he'd learned that night, despite his intentions to be honest with her. But it wasn't that he wanted to hide it from her, he just didn't know how to go about bringing it up, especially when she was already so irked at his father. But he'd made the promise to himself that he would tell her before they left the hospital today. And that meant now. They were alone for once, and he had to take advantage of this time while he had it. But when he looked at her, sitting across the room from him on the end of the bed, he found that he was no more prepared now than he had been yesterday or the day before. He didn't want to tell her. It was just going to cause more raging and more conflict.

But Temari crossed her legs, propping her hands on her knee, and gave him an impatient look. "Spit out it," she said.

"Huh?"

"Whatever secret you're keeping from me. Spit it out."

He let his eyes drop to the floor, and they fell on a couple of stray leaves from Shiho's tree. Mom had had a heck of a time getting it back through the door.

"I'm not keeping secrets," he said. "I just don't know how I'm supposed to say this."

"I'll give you some advice, then. Open your mouth, and when the words start to come out don't stop them."

"Fine," he said. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, reminded of how nice it was to have pants on again. "My dad knew what he was doing when he kept you from getting to me on time. He needed the attack to succeed to a degree, so that the public could be aware of Danzo's intentions, and you were going to get in the way of that."

Her face was blank, and he took advantage of that to plunge forward before she could get started on her ranting.

"He had it all worked out, though," he said. "Ino was there in case you didn't make it, and to help me the minute you brought me out." Then something clicked in his brain, and he added, "I think Dad _wanted_ Ino to save me on the street, so that people would see. That's really all that matters, after all. Obviously it would be better if I live through all of this, but-"

She raised a hand, silencing him. He'd been babbling. Desperately trying to plead Dad's case before Temari came to her own conclusions. But she sagged forward, dropping her forehead into her palms.

"Thank god," she said.

That wasn't exactly the reaction he'd been expecting.

"You're...okay with that?"

"Are you kidding me?" She lifted her face. "I've been sitting here for two days, trying to figure out how I'm supposed to keep you safe, thinking your father was incapable of it. Thinking he couldn't even plan well enough to keep his own _son_ alive. Of _course_ I'm relieved to find out he's not a complete idiot. I thought I was going to have to handle this coup by myself." She exhaled and dropped her face into her hands again, and he heard her mumble another thank god.

"Oh," he said.

"But he's not going to do it again, is he? I don't think I can go through this again."

"No," said Shikamaru. "He said once was enough."

"Good."

They were packed and ready to go by the time their "escorts" arrived: none other than Hatake Kakashi and Uzumaki Naruto. Escorts. Right. More like a the other two members of a four-man parade. Dad even had their trip home carefully planned out to get the most bang out of his public-relations buck. They raised quite a few eyebrows as they headed through the streets, and conversations became murmurs, then whispers when their group would approach. He knew what the crowd was seeing: Kakashi, flanked by the Suna Princess and the National Hero as he helped Danzo's latest victim home. Despite the fact that Shikamaru was relieved to be out of the hospital and into the freedom of sunshine and sky, the scrutiny of the crowd was enough to make him long for the safety of home.

Most of the members of his household were there to greet him when he arrived. Something else was there to greet him, as well, but at least Dad had the tact to wait until after Shikamaru had enjoyed his lunch before giving it to him: a letter from Danzo.

Temari was already spitting obscenities before he'd gotten the envelope torn open and the letter pulled out, but he read it out loud for her benefit.

_Shikamaru,_

_Be in my office at three p.m._

_Rokudaime Hokage_

"He can't possibly expect you to meet with him face-to-face _now_," she said. "And that's only an hour away!"

But he barely had time to form an opinion of the letter before Dad reached over and plucked it from his hand, then made a show if tearing it down the middle and dropping it on the table.

"I doubt that he does," he said. "This is probably the first step in a more complex strategy."

"So I'm just ignoring the order?" Shikamaru said. "That's grounds for arrest, at least."

Dad swallowed his drought of tea before answering. "I'll have Ino send a note excusing your absence. I'm sure she'll agree with me that you have more recovering to do. Speaking of which, neither of you is leaving this house for the next three days, unless I'm with you. Understood?"

Shikamaru nodded, heard Temari's mumble of assent.

"Thank you. But the truth is I don't expect that there will be many more direct attacks on the two of you. Danzo will be looking for other ways to draw you out." He gestured to the two halves of the letter.

"Why?" asked Temari.

Dad smiled a bit, like he knew an inside joke. "Let's just say that Gaara got word about the injuries his brother-in-law sustained in the Hokage's own building, and has made his displeasure perfectly clear."

After lunch, Shikamaru and Temari took their time putting their things from the hospital away and getting settled in. There wasn't a lot to do now that they were trapped in the house, and Shikamaru was reminded of their first night together, in Temari's bedroom. The hours had dragged by then, punctuated only by awkward attempts at conversation and the occasional visit from Kankuro. But so much progress had been made since that night. Shikamaru felt a lot more comfortable sitting in silence with Temari, while she rifled through the contents of his book shelf and he played a solitary game of Shougi. She'd turned down the offer to be his opponent, stating that she refused to play any game that she knew she couldn't win, but it was still nice to have her there, sitting on her bed and reading the copy of "The History of Konoha" that had been one of his fourth year text books.

Some time during the second game, Ino and Chouji stopped by the room. Ino was holding a small, flat box wrapped with a green bow, and she presented it to Temari.

"Seriously," Ino said. "You guys are alone up here and you're playing _Shougi_?"

"I'm reading," Temari corrected, holding up the book with one hand while she accepted the gift with the other. "What's this?"

"Just a little something for our newest citizen. Something no Konoha kunoichi should be without." Ino looked spectacularly pleased with herself.

Temari shot a tolerant glance at Shikamaru. "Let me guess: does it have a leaf on it?"

"It does indeed," Ino said.

Temari smiled and untied the bow. "Thanks," she said. "I guess I do need one of these."

Shikamaru couldn't see inside the box when Temari lifted the lid, because the lid blocked his view. But he could see Temari's brow furrow a bit, and her hand disappear into the box. Then her eyes popped open, and a red flush crawled up her neck and face.

"Ino!"

Ino's grin was devilish. "You like it?"

_"No!"_ said Temari. "It's..." He saw her wrist turn back and forth; apparently she was giving whatever was in her hand further examination. "This is...are you crazy?"

Chouji was watching Temari with a bewildered look on his face. "What _is_ that?" he asked.

Ino dragged him down to whisper in his ear, smiling gleefully. But her explanation didn't seem to afford him any clarity, because he just looked more perplexed.

He shrugged. "What's it _for_?"

More whispering, during which _his_ cheeks began to redden and he glanced nervously away from Temari.

"Oh."

Shikamaru felt stupid; his gut was telling was telling him in no uncertain terms that he did _not_ want to know what was in the box. But his mouth went ahead and demanded the information anyway.

"Come on, guys, what is it?"

He felt himself cringe as soon as the words were out of his mouth, and three sets of eyes turned to stare at him.

"_Nothing_," said Temari, cramming the lid back on the box. "It's Ino's idea of a joke. Funny joke, Ino. Ha ha. Now take this back."

She thrust the box at Ino, who stepped back and waved it off.

"Uh-uh," she said. "It's yours."

"I don't _want_ it."

"But you will," Ino said with a knowing nod. "You guys will be stuck up here for a long time. I'm sure you'll find use for it."

Still holding out the box, Temari's eyes landed on Chouji, desperate, as if she might be able to foist it off on him. But he turned without another word and disappeared down the stairs.

Ino chuckled.

"Ino..." Temari shook the box at her.

"Nope."

"Then get out," said Temari. She leaned over the end of the bed and pushed the box underneath it. "You're a menace."

Ino's sing-songy voice could be heard as she sauntered away. "You'll thank me later!"

Temari shut the door with more force than necessary. Shikamaru wasn't sure what to say, if anything, and Temari carefully avoided eye contact with him, clearing her throat and turning the page of her book with an irritated flourish. But his curiosity over the contents of the box were struggling with his intelligence and sense of self-preservation, so he searched for something to distract him, looking around the room for anything at all that might hold his attention or spur a topic of conversation.

He found nothing, but his eyes landed on the window and he realized that it was much later than he'd thought. The sun was already going down, which brought his thoughts back onto the track they'd been stuck most of the day, and that Shougi hadn't been quite enough to help him forget. Bedtime. Temari. The marriage to her that he was very much interested in consummating.

Except that he hadn't had a bath in...what? Three days? Four? Not since before he'd been been admitted into the hospital. And if he ever got up the guts to ask Temari about which bed she'd be sleeping in, surely the way he smelled would be a factor in her decision.

Come to think of it, Temari hadn't been home to clean up in the last few days, either. The gentlemanly thing to do would be to offer her the use of the tub first, but he wasn't sure he felt like waiting. But he could probably use the downstairs bath, if no one else was. Then they could both go at the same time. Good idea.

He stood up and worked the stiffness out of his long-bent knees, then started grabbing some clean clothes out of his drawer.

"What are you doing?" asked Temari.

"I'm going to take a bath," he said. "You want one?"

Until that moment, Shikamaru never realized that it was possible to hear silence. To feel stillness. He detected Temari's stasis with his entire body, and turned before he could stop himself to see her watching him with startled eyes.

"I just meant," he said, hurrying to correct his mistake, "that there are two bathrooms. So if you also wanted to take a bath, you could do that."

"Oh," she said. She laughed in a way that made him turn back toward his dresser, embarrassed. What kind of reaction he could expect from an _intentional_ attempt at intimacy? Maybe he'd be better off leaving it alone.

"A bath sounds good," she said. He could hear her rummaging through a bag. "I'm almost out of clean clothes, though."

"Mom's washing them," he said. "Do you have something to wear for now?" He considered offering her one of his t-shirts, but it seemed like another one of those things she'd probably laugh at.

"Yeah, I've got something."

"Okay," he said. He tucked his clothes under an arm and headed for the door. "See you."

"Don't wait up," she said.

**O O O**

Temari took immense pleasure from running the water as hot as possible and soaking herself in it until she pruned. She wasn't in a hurry; she had days worth of weariness and stress to let seep out of her pores and float away, then wash down the drain once the plug was pulled. It was only when she was pretty sure that she was about to die of heat stroke that she climbed out of the tub and sat in front of the sprayer, washing her hair and body and shaving her legs with cooler water. Then she rinsed off and got back in the tub, ready to tempt death again. It felt wonderful.

She scooted down in the tub until her whole body was in the water, then inhaled deeply, drawing in the steam and making her chest float. She thought about Shikamaru, who was probably still having his own luxurious soak in the downstairs bathroom.

_"I'm going to take a bath. You want one?"_

She smiled to herself. Silly boy. So quick to cover up for his mistake, unaware that she'd been about three seconds and a leap over her pride away from saying yes. It was probably better this way; now she had all the time and room and privacy that she needed to relax and groom. But there was something about the way her splashing echoed through the room, amplified by the acoustics, that made her feel a little lonely. There was no reason to bathe like single people if you'd rather bathe like married ones. And she was reasonably certain that he'd rather; he'd been staring at her body all day, too inexperienced at girl-watching not to get caught at it. That was fine. It was kind of cute watching his eyes flick away, then narrow as if he was annoyed at himself for getting distracted.

She lay in the bath as long as she could a second time, then forced herself to slither out and dry off. It was too steamy to see herself in the mirror, even after wiping it down with a dry corner of her towel, so she took a tiny pump of soap from the dispenser, dampened it under the faucet, and rubbed it on the glass. After wiping down the mirror again, she was staring at a crystal clear reflection of herself.

Her skin was blotchy and bright red from the bath, which made her eyes look unnaturally green, so she ran cool water into her hands and splashed in on her face until it went away. She towel dried her hair, then combed through it with her fingers, carefully separating the waves. When dry, her hair was absolutely ridiculous. But it was quite nice when it was wet, the waves making it look tousled and soft. It was the only time she liked it.

Then she got dressed. All she'd had left in her bag was a tank top and shorts, which would have to be good enough. Her thoughts briefly went to the box under her bed, but she pushed the idea away. Ino was a crack-pot.

Shikamaru was already in the room moving clean, folded laundry from a basket into his dresser. He was dressed simply, too, in a green shirt and black pants, damp hair still hanging loose and making wet spots on his collar and the shoulders of his shirt. He pushed the last drawer shut, then faced her, and she noticed for the first time that his cheeks were flushed.

"Here," he said, thrusting the basket toward her. "The rest of it's yours."

She glanced into the basket to see her panties folded and stacked neatly on top of some other clothes. She smiled.

"Are you scared of my underwear?" she asked.

He shrugged and shook his head in one, awkward motion. "I just didn't know where to put it."

"Ah." She dropped the basket onto her bed, then covered the three paces to where he stood. His eyes widened as she got closer; she made herself hold his gaze, even though she had to keep looking higher, her head tilting back until she was right in front of him. This was going to be hard to get used to. Until now he'd always been below _her_ when they kissed, and that felt natural to her. She was in control that way; he only got to be in charge when she let him. But now she had to come to terms with the fact that it wasn't usually going to be like that. He was _bigger_ than her. He made her feel _small_. And no one had made her feel small since Yashamaru-jisan had carried her around on his shoulders when she was four years old. She'd liked it, then. She wasn't so sure she liked it now.

But she'd have to get used to it. She wasn't always going to be able to push him down every time they made out, as much as she might want to. And other women tolerated it, so maybe it wouldn't be all bad.

"Kiss me," she said.

His expression was doubtful. "Are you sure you want me to? You're making a weird face."

"Kiss me before I push you down."

"Well, if you're going to _threaten_ me..."

Sooner than she was expecting, his arm circled her waist and pulled her closer. Fingers of his other hand slipped behind her neck. She kept her face tilted back, but she allowed her eyes to close as his lips grazed hers. This was so, so strange. Her husband. Taller than her, despite being quite a bit younger. It was an unfair advantage that men had, something she'd learned to compensate for in battle long ago. But she'd never prepared herself for the possibility that she might one day be physically inferior to a man in a romantic sense. A knee to the balls didn't seem like a fair or smart way to level the playing field in this situation.

Not that he was a dominant kisser, exactly. He handled her carefully, as if she were fragile and he was afraid he might damage her. Or maybe offend her. And that was almost worse. It was one thing for her to feel small; it was quite another for him to _treat_ her that way.

She sighed and pulled away, and he looked down at her with puzzlement.

"You're not going to break me, you know," she said.

"You...want me to kiss you harder?"

"I want you to kiss me like you _mean_ it."

He frowned, but his thumb moved along her jaw, his fingers still behind her neck. "I mean this."

"You pulled your punches when we were fighting, and you're pulling punches now. I'm a _woman_, not a soap bubble."

He stared at her, drawing in a slow breath. Suddenly, a war began to wage behind his eyes. A thousand thoughts flickering past. Options weighed. Rejected. Consequences considered. Fear recognized. Accepted. Embraced. Then his eyes squeezed shut for a span of about three seconds.

When they opened again, everything was gone.

Vertigo grabbed Temari as Shikamaru twisted and spilled them both onto his bed, a "whoa" of disbelief escaping her when she landed, crushed underneath him, her world swallowed up by warmth and the weight of his body and his mouth on hers. There was nothing hesitant about him now, nothing _careful_ about the way his tongue demanded entrance, or the way he refused to let her breathe. She was desperate for oxygen but more desperate for him, so she kissed him back, head swirling as one need was ignored in favor of another. His arms were still around her, one hand behind her neck, and he used it to tilt her head back and lift her chin, dropping his lips to her throat. Then he held her neck in place as he attacked, tongue dragging under her jaw, dipping into the hollow of her throat, and she didn't mean to do it but she exhaled audibly, like a tiny moan. He stilled, drew back to look at her, an eyebrow arched in surprise. She knew he wouldn't be able to resist the urge to say something annoying or teasing or not-sexy, so she pulled him toward her before he could open his mouth and kissed him again. He didn't fight her.

She felt his hand glide down her hip and along her thigh, to grab her knee and swing her legs up onto the bed beside him. She helped a little, and the extra momentum she added carried her over, sending them rolling on their sides. Their legs tangled together somehow, his thigh jammed between hers, and his free hand groping at her back through her shirt. Then lower, and his fingers began to trace the bottom edge of the tank top, as if he thought he was being sneaky. Like he could slip under it without being noticed.

She didn't laugh at him or rib him for it. She was too ready for this. Her desire for him had confused her at first, because it had been so sudden and so intense, like he'd flipped on a blinding light when he'd kissed her that day in the hospital. But she'd accepted it as another ambition in her life, possibly as the single greatest motivation she'd ever encountered. She _wanted_ him. She _wanted_ to sleep with that arrogant, lazy, irritating Nara. Because she'd finally realized that he wasn't arrogant, he was just so brilliant that he knew exactly what his capabilities were, and never underestimated himself. And, yes, he was lazy, but he was also the calm in the storm, a man with the unique ability to detach his mind from the insanity of life around him and simply..._be_. And when Temari got close enough to him that calm expanded to include her, his gravity holding her to the earth and centering her, helping her recognize how little any of that other stuff mattered.

And if he was irritating, it was only because of how often he was right.

So when he traced her lip with his tongue to try and cover the fact that his hand was creeping under her shirt, she didn't call him on it. And she pretended to ignore the way that he shifted against her to surreptitiously allow room for the tank top to work its way up her torso and expose her stomach. But she couldn't help shivering a little when his fingers brushed over her ribcage and down her abdomen, softly enough to tickle her.

But then she sensed it; that trepidation in his movements again, that moment of disconnect when his brain began to try and act independently of his body. His fingers came to a halt against her skin and the haze of lust in his eyes cleared, leaving behind nervous questioning.

"Temari..." he said. He rested his forehead against hers, but his eyes were lowered enough that she could barely see their anxious movements under thick lashes. Then he finished his thought with barely-moving lips, in a voice so quiet that she wouldn't have understood him had she not already been perfectly aware of what he was going to ask. "Stay here with me."

Honestly, she was annoyed. She was angry at his super-ego for interrupting, for getting in the way when things had been moving along just fine. And she was frustrated that he had to ask. How could she abandon herself to him to this degree if she wasn't already confident in him? If she wasn't already sure of her feelings? They were wrapped so tightly together that they were practically one person, on his _bed_; she was getting an up-close and personal experience with the anatomy of the human male, mostly against her thigh; did he think she was just playing a game right now?

She opened her mouth, although she wasn't sure whether she was planning to reassure him with words or with a particularly hard and enlightening kiss, when she heard something that startled her enough to make her jump.

_Sabaku no Tori_, tapped out on the window.

**O O O**

Only one thought was going through Shikamaru's mind when he heard the knock on the glass, and that was to kill anything that might try to get in and hurt Temari. Sex forgotten, he landed on his feet beside the bed, shadow already reaching away from him toward the window. But Temari's fingers grabbed the back of his shirt, and her voice didn't sound afraid. It sounded disgusted.

"Put that away," she said. "It's just Kankuro."

He didn't immediately obey, but he kept his shadow far enough back to allow her to get to window without getting caught. Waiting.

"Why would he be out there?" he asked.

She sighed, fingers working the window locks. "To try and scare me, probably. Idiot."

"But, how do you know..."

"The song," she said. "It's been our password since we were kids." The window slid open, and black-sandaled feet slipped in, followed by a black uniform and a face painted in garish purple. He pulled his puppet in behind him, then threw it onto Temari's bed, followed by his pack. He was grinning imperiously.

"You are _not_ funny," Temari told him. "Everyone in this house is over-react mode. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"I saw what you two were doing," he said. "You wouldn't have been able to defend yourselves against a rabbit. And, by the way..." He wrapped a tough, protective arm around Temari and squeezed, making her grimace. "...that's disgusting."

"You're just jealous," Temari said, which made Kankuro laugh like he'd scored a point. Temari scowled, and Shikamaru could only observe, and wonder what kind of weird sibling competition they had going on. As an only child, he was uneducated in matters like this.

"Right," Kankuro said. "I'm jealous. Can't figure out who I'm supposed to be jealous _of_, though. The one kissing my sister, or the one kissing a guy?"

"The one getting _any_ action," she said, except that it was a barely intelligible mumble. Kankuro chuckled again.

"Oh, I get action," he said, "and I get it with unrelated females. So I think that means I win."

"Butthead."

"Fart-face."

Shikamaru went ahead and interrupted, because he couldn't see that this was going anywhere productive. "Temari's right, though," said Shikamaru. "Someone on Dad's team might have thought you were a threat."

"Nah, they knew I was coming. And now that I'm here, I'm going to deliver Gaara's update to Shikaku-san and crash. I've been on the road for eight days, did you know that?" He stared at Temari like he was expecting sympathy. "I didn't even make it to Suna before scouts met me and turned me right back around."

Temari pretended to wipe her eyes with a knuckle, then glared at him, unimpressed. "Where exactly are you planning to crash?"

Kankuro shrugged. "Right here, I guess." He gestured to the room in general.

"No, you're not," said Shikamaru. The words had jumped out of his mouth on their own.

"Well, whatever. It has to be in this house, though. I'm not even supposed to be in Fire." He pulled his hood off and dropped it on the bed beside his puppet, like he was already claiming it. Then he reached up and scratched his head with both hands. His sweaty hair stuck out in all directions.

Shikamaru glanced at Temari, who was chewing her bottom lip in concentration. He knew she was running through the property the same way that he was, trying to picture all the places left for a person to sleep. Chouji took up the whole living room, so that wasn't a possibility. The only unoccupied space was the empty bed in Ino's room.

Temari groaned a little and rubbed her face with her hands. "I guess you're staying in here."

"Wait," said Shikamaru, "there has to be somewhere else." _Anywhere_ else. The thought of having some guy in here tonight instead of his woman was making him desperate.

"You know there's not," she said. "There's hardly enough space for the people who live here already. And he can't sleep with Ino."

"Who's Ino?"

Shikamaru was about to suggest that he sleep in the bathtub when there was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?"

"Ino."

"Go away," Shikamaru and Temari said in unison. Ino opened the door and walked in, dragging Chouji by one arm.

"That's Ino," Temari told Kankuro, jabbing a thumb. Kankuro's eyebrows popped up, distorting the purple lines on his forehead.

"Really," he said.

"What's going on?" asked Ino.

Shikamaru sighed and sank onto his bed, finally coming to terms with the fact that he most definitely was not going to be having sex any time soon. "We're trying to decide where Temari's brother is going to sleep tonight. And since your room is the only one with space, I guess that puts Temari in with you."

Ino actually looked annoyed by this. "No way," she said. "Temari has to be with _you_. How else will she use my present?"

"What present?" asked Kankuro.

"_Ino_," said Temari, "would you _shut up?_"

"I thought I explained to you that she never shuts up," said Shikamaru.

"I'm getting that."

"And Temari _can't_ be with me," Shikamaru told Ino, "because that puts Kankuro in with you."

"Hey," said Kankuro. "I can sleep with Ino."

"No."

At first, Shikamaru didn't realize that _he_ wasn't the one that had just said "no" in such a inarguable tone of voice. He followed the sound back to Chouji, who was watching Kankuro without malice, but with no trace of flexibility. For a moment, Kankuro looked like he was considering taking up the challenge, but he finally smiled and shook his head. Ino, however, was staring at Chouji with an unfathomable expression.

"This conversation is over," said Temari. "Kankuro will be in here, and I'll be with Ino. Now..." she turned to Ino with mock-tolerance, "what did you come up here for?"

"Oh," said Ino, her eyes darting from Chouji to Temari. "Um...right. Yeah. Dinner's ready. And Shikamaru got another letter from Danzo. It said..." She cleared her throat and affected a theatrically masculine tone of voice. "I expect you in my office first thing in the morning, regardless of your medic's recommendation. Failure to comply will result in immediate action taken." Then her voice went back to normal and she grinned. "I like how he left the "action" part totally open. Think he'll have you attacked by rabid kittens?"

No kidding. What _did_ "action" mean? It sounded like Danzo was at the point of making up rules just so he could get to Shikamaru.

"What did Dad say?"

Ino gave an embarrassed smile. "Something a lady doesn't repeat. But I think the gist was that we're ignoring this order, too."

"Gotcha."

"Hey," said Kankuro, pointing a finger at Ino. "I remember you now. You're that crazy broad that chopped all her hair off in the Chuunin Exams."

"None other," she said, flipping that hair behind her shoulder. "Now let's go downstairs before Yoshino-san comes up after us. She's already mad about Danzo's letter."

"Lead the way, blondie."

Shikamaru laboriously raised himself from his bed and followed the crowd toward the door. He caught Temari's eye, and she raised her hands as if to say, "what are you gonna do."

Strangling a brother-in-law was starting to sound pretty good.

**O O O**

"Please?"

"No."

"Come on, please?"

"I don't want to."

"Why? Why would you do this to me?"

"Because I can, mostly. And because I can't go to an inn."

"Then sleep in the woods, for all I care. Just go _away_."

"Thanks for the offer, but no."

"Fine. I'll give you thirty bucks."

"Thirty bucks? Are you kidding me?"

"No, I'm _bribing_ you. I'm bribing you to go somewhere else tonight and leave me alone."

"You must think I'm a cheap buy, then."

"Fifty."

"Keep going."

"Just skip the haggling and tell me how much you want."

"A hundred bucks."

"Okay, fine. Great. A hundred bucks it is. Take it and get _out_ of here."

"Wow. That was easier than I thought. You must really want to get la-"

"I just took _one hundred dollars_ out of my very own pocket and gave it to _you_. _Why_ am I still looking at your face?"

"Alright, I'm going. I can take a hint."

**O O O**

Shikamaru lay on his back in the dark, unable to sleep. Kankuro hadn't come up yet, so he was alone in his room, but he couldn't be happy about the solitude. Off to his right was Temari's neatly-made bed, sheets clean because Mom had changed them before the two of them had come home, and Temari hadn't had a chance to sleep in it yet. Would she have slept in it tonight, if her brother hadn't shown up when he did? It was hard to say. His thoughts drifted back to earlier in the evening, when he'd had her here in _his_ bed for a few, glorious moments. He'd finally gotten up the nerve to ask her to spend the night with him...sort of. But she'd never had chance to respond. And maybe that was a good thing. Nothing had really changed between them, and letting him kiss her didn't automatically mean that she was ready to sleep with him. And, if he was honest with himself, she hadn't put up much of a fight over giving her room to Kankuro. It had been _her_ idea. She'd seemed a little irritated, but not nearly as irritated as he felt right now.

Maybe he'd moved too fast. Pushed her too hard. She was right: she wasn't breakable. But that didn't mean she didn't have reservations. And she'd looked so _frustrated_ with him after he'd asked.

He sighed and rolled toward the wall, mashing his face into his pillow. There was only one way to handle this without any more confusion, and that was to let her make the moves from now on. It was the lazy way out, but the one with the least heart-ache. No more attacking her and pushing her down on his bed. If she wanted him, she'd have to come to him.

He heard his bedroom door creak open, then close again. Kankuro. Was it so wrong that Shikamaru wanted to throw a pillow in his face? After all, Kankuro was here for the same reason Temari was, and that was because of their respective roles in the reclamation. It probably wasn't fair that Shikamaru wanted to accept one and reject the other. But he didn't care about fair. He just cared about how warm and soft Temari had felt in his arms for those brief moments before Kankuro had butted in.

Shikamaru heard the sounds of footsteps on the floor. Clothes shed. More footsteps.

Then weight on the side of his bed.

He bolted upright, and turned in the direction of the person climbing under his blankets. But it was too dark to see a thing; Dad insisted that his keep the windows totally covered while they slept, so that no spies could see inside.

"Kankuro?" he said.

Temari's voice came back to him, laden with sarcasm. "Were you expecting my brother to invade your bed in the middle of the night?"

Her voice had the power to open a pressurized can of emotions in him, from relief to nervousness to terror to hope so strong he could feel it like adrenaline in his veins. Temari. In his bed. Surely she hadn't come here just to chat.

"But...where is he...?"

"Don't know, don't care. Hopefully as far away as my money will take him. Now lay back down."

He obeyed, already grinning to himself. "You bought him off?"

"Eh, I think I owed him some money, anyway."

He rolled onto his side, facing her, but she reached out and pushed down on his chest until he was flat on his back again.

"What are you-"

But he felt her fingers at his waist, just under the hem of his shirt, and she sidled up closer as her fingers slipped higher. They were cool and they tickled, but he kept himself as still as he could as her fingertips brushed up his abdomen, stopping below his sternum. At his scar. It hadn't totally healed, yet; it would take a couple more sessions with a medic to get rid of it. Assuming he cared that much. He really didn't.

She touched the scar, running a finger up its length, then lightly traced its edges. Tingling where she touched. The her fingers went still, and he heard her draw a shaky breath.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she whispered. Her hand left his stomach, reached across his body and caught _his_ hand. She pulled it toward her until he had no choice but to roll onto his side again. He guessed that was okay when it was her idea.

There was still some distance between them, but she pulled his hand toward her face and kissed his fingers, soft lips drawing over the tip of each one. When he felt her tongue warm his index finger, he forced himself to speak and make his position clear. As painful as it was.

"You don't have to do this," he said. "We can wait until you're ready."

She gave a short laugh, hot breath against his knuckles, then pulled his hand away from her mouth and put it on her waist.

There was nothing there but skin.

"I think I'm ready," she said.

Suddenly, breathing was no longer an option. He kept his hand at her waist, terrified of moving it. He definitely didn't want to pull _away_, but venturing beyond where it rested seemed like a dangerous proposition. But he finally convinced his thumb to shift a little, to brush her skin. Then his fingers followed suit.

He moved upward, searching for the edge of a shirt. This was a coincidence. She couldn't possibly be naked; her shirt had probably just gotten pushed up when she'd slid under his sheets.

He stopped when he got to her ribcage, afraid to go any higher.

So he changed directions, creeping his fingers lower, trying to find shorts. Maybe even underwear. But he made it all the way to her hip without meeting anything of the sort, and he couldn't help but let his fingers keep gliding over the curve of her hip, then down her thigh. Nothing. Nothing except warm, satiny-smooth skin.

Desperate for oxygen, his body finally forced him to draw in a deep breath.

"Surprise," Temari said. "A belated wedding present. Hope you like blondes."

He inhaled again, then coughed out a laugh. He wanted to kiss her so badly, but was aware that doing so would bring him fully into contact with...her. But he decided that there was a time to be hesitant and prudent, and right now, with Temari presenting her body to him as a gift, was not that time.

So he reached out and gathered her toward him, wrapping her in his arms. Her mouth found his in the dark, and his hands found her curves, the shapes that'd had him so mesmerized.

"Do me a favor," she said, mumbling into his lips.

"Mm?" was all he was capable of uttering. He was currently sneaking up on one of her breasts.

"Promise you won't be gentle."

Encouraged, he reassigned his stealth mission as a full-on attack. She actually squeaked when he did, but it bubbled into an embarrassed laugh.

"Was that brutal enough?" he asked.

"It's a start."

"Just make sure you let me know if you're enjoying my brutality."

"Don't worry," she said. "I don't think there will be any doubt in your mind."

* * *

**A/N 11/24/10**: I changed the initial, untagged dialogue, because I decided to drop the storyline that the old dialogue applied to. It wasn't anything important, and I like this one better.

Thanks for reading! Review, pretty please with umeboshi on top!


	12. Uncovered

**A/N:** A couple of quick warnings, and then there will be more notes at the end. In this chapter the story takes a turn for the mature, although I'm standing behind the T-rating. But I want to make myself very clear, before we begin: nothing is sacred in this fic except ShikaTema. I most definitely _will_ piss off quite a few of you by the end, but all I can say is that this is the story I have to write, and I make no apologies for that.

One other warning: canon is fluid at this point. You have to look at this story as an alternate reality that began at the destruction of Konoha, because I wrote the rough draft at that time, without knowing about the Kage Summit, Kakashi's unofficial hokagedom, or, Madara's idiotic Moon's Eye Plan. I warned in the first chapter that my fic might eventually get a bit AU; this is that time. Canon is still strongly influencing the story, and there aren't _huge_ discrepancies, but you will notice them.

Last chance to run away.

.

.

.

.

Still here? Then I present to you: Chapter Twelve.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

**Uncovered**

"Did you find them?"

"Oh, yeah. I found them."

"Did they already go to bed?"

"Yep."

"Well, did you tell them I need to talk to them?"

"I think you should leave it until morning. It's pretty late."

"I know it's late, but it's important that I-"

"Shikaku."

"What?"

"They're busy."

"Doing what? You just said they were in bed."

"Right."

"So, then, what could they possibly be- -_oh_."

"Caught on, have you?"

"Heh. Yeah."

"Aw, look at you. Proud Papa."

"More like Relieved Papa. I was starting to wonder if that kid was interested in girls at all."

"I thought you knew how he felt about her?"

"I knew he loved her. But I love my leather house shoes. Doesn't mean I want to take them to bed with me."

"Well, he's interested. Enough to keep me downstairs until tomorrow. Poor Ino-chan."

"Is it okay for a mother to talk like that about her son?"

"Contrary to popular belief, my love, mothers are not terrified of the thought of their sons being with a woman. We're terrified that they'll give themselves to the wrong one."

"So I guess you can relax, then."

"Talk to me when Danzo isn't trying to kill him anymore. Maybe _then_ I'll be able to relax."

**O O O**

Shikamaru woke up before dawn. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done that without an alarm, his mother's shouting, and/or a glass of cold water to the face. But, then, he'd never really fallen asleep in the first place, aside from some restless snoozing here and there. And even though he'd set himself to the task of memorizing Temari's body last night, he'd done it in total darkness, lights off and curtains closed. His highly visual brain needed, no, _demanded_ to see it, to have an image to link to the curves and inversions with which his hands and mouth were becoming well-acquainted. And the sun would be up, soon. Just a little while longer to wait. In the meantime, he kept his arm curled tightly around her as she slept, her head resting on his shoulder.

For once in his life, Shikamaru envied the poets. The painters. The musicians. Because they would know how to express these feelings, instead of keeping them so tightly contained that they threatened to burn him up, from the inside out, and leave nothing behind but ashes. 'I love Temari.' Seriously, was that supposed to sum it up in any kind of meaningful way? 'I _love_ Temari' didn't seem much better. He could grit his teeth when he said it, or scream it from the Hokage Mountain, but it was still the same three words, and they were painfully inadequate. And Temari deserved beautiful words. Infinitely moreso than whatever women had inspired some of the crappy poetry he'd been forced to read in school. And he didn't have them. He didn't have the language to describe her, or how he felt about her, and when he tried what he kept coming up with were math or chemistry analogies. He wasn't about to tell her that when his skin came in contact with hers it felt like the start of a nuclear chain reaction, the neutrons released from one of his atoms causing fission in the next, then the next, then the next, faster and faster, increasing exponentially until his body erupted in one blinding, consuming flash of light and heat.

Yeah, he'd keep that one to himself.

Temari was awe-inspiring, as unpredictable and uninhibited and intuitive with sex as she was in every other aspect of her life. It seemed so obvious, in hindsight, that it would take a woman that kept him guessing in battle and drove him crazy at work to do the same for him in bed. No wonder he'd never been able to drum up any interest in sweet, traditional girls like Hinata, as often as he'd tried. What had been looking for? The girl that made the best mackerel and kept the house the cleanest? What an idiot.

There was a yawn, and Temari stirred in the crook of his arm. He felt her tilt her face toward him.

"You're not sleeping."

"It's overrated."

"You're strange," she said, shifting around to get more comfortable. "I thought you'd be comatose until next week after all that."

She was right; he should be exhausted. But he wasn't even tired. _Arguing_ with Temari; now, that wore him out. But sleeping with her was an entirely different story. He felt invigorated. Powerful. Like he could accomplish anything, win any battle, defeat any foe. In fact, it made him feel like he could do it with her again.

No sooner thought of than done. She gave a groggy chuckle when he rolled onto her and buried his face in her neck, kissing her from jaw to collarbone. He was amazed that being tangled up with Temari, nothing between them, was as exciting as it had been last night. _More_ exciting, because back when he'd been a virgin he'd had absolutely no idea what he was getting into.

"You're kidding," she said. Her voice was tired, but tolerant.

"What?"

"You're behaving like a sixteen-year-old."

He searched for that place on her neck that he'd stumbled upon last night, the one that made her relax and yield to him. He knew when he'd found it because she sighed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"I _am_ a sixteen-year-old."

"Yeah, but you usually act like you're eighty. What happened to the Shikamaru that plays Shougi and goes to bed at seven-thirty and wears nemaki?"

"For your information," he said, "I don't even own a nemaki."

"I'll have to buy you one. To complete the image."

He wasn't really paying attention to her anymore; he had more important things on his mind, like making his way from her neck down to her chest. She stopped him before he could get very far, though, putting her hands on his face and pushing him away gently.

"If you're serious about this, you'll have to give me a minute."

He grabbed one of her hands before she could take it back and brought it to his mouth. "When you say a minute..." He kissed each of her knuckles in turn. "... do you mean sixty seconds, or some indefinite amount of time that's going to make me insane?"

"Sixty seconds. Give or take."

"Why? What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to pee, if you must know."

"Oh."

With supreme mental effort, he made himself climb off her and let her get out of bed. He heard her shuffling around the room, getting dressed, then the sound of the bedroom door clicking open. Dim light shone through the frame, silhouetting her body, and the smell of tea and rice wafted into the room. The moms must be getting started early this morning.

"Be right back."

"Mm."

While she was gone, Shikamaru took the opportunity to pull the curtains open a bit. Pale fingers of sunlight were warming the horizon; it wouldn't be long before morning made its way into his room, the early dawn giving him light by which to see his wife for the first time. It was strange; he was aware that he could just turn the room light on when she came back and look at her, but that seemed too crude. His goal wasn't to shock her or put her on display. He just wanted to see.

He was getting settled back in bed when the door opened again. Temari re-entered, stripped, and climbed under the covers, and he invaded her space as much as she'd let him. Then he picked up where he left off a few minutes ago, rolling her onto her back and searching out a nipple with his lips and tongue. She sighed again, then laughed gently.

"Is this how we're going to do it? You said the next time would be in the tub."

He slowed, thinking. He _had_ said that, but it was only because he'd spent his whole bath fantasizing about having her in there with him it had turned into a sort of _Mission: Imperative_. Now the tub seemed like it was miles away, and he didn't want to wait that long.

"We'll do it there after breakfast."

"When everyone in the house is awake?"

"They're awake anyway."

"But they don't know _we're_-"

He cut her off by pushing up and kissing her hard on the mouth, and she only tried to talk around it for a second before giving up and letting him have his way. It was good to know that kissing still worked, and that there were things he could do to make her calm down and just _be_ with him.

It felt nice not to be completely powerless.

**O O O**

Temari fixed that.

As he lay there panting for air, his woman still straddling his hips, he didn't feel that same surge of energy that he'd been expecting. No, this time he felt more like a washcloth that had been wrung out and hung over the towel rod. Fingers ran through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.

"You're funny," she said. He could hear the smirk in her voice.

"You're _killing_ me."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"That's how I meant it, woman."

"Shall I start the bath water then?"

A laugh escaped him, and then he laughed at the fact that he was laughing. What was _wrong_ with him? Must be tired. "Shut up and let's cuddle."

Then _she_ laughed, a guffaw that could probably be heard through the whole house. But she lay down beside him, pulling the covers over them both and curling up in the crook of his arm. Right where she'd been most of the night. And where, he hoped, she'd be for the next sixty years.

"I'd bet money that you're waxing sentimental right now."

"No."

"You're such a girl."

"So what does that say about your sexual orientation?"

She was silent for a minute, then she snorted. "That's a very good question."

He absentmindedly traced the curve of waist and hip, where it dipped low and abruptly jumped high again. It was light enough in the room to make out her face, as close to his as it was. Still not quite dawn though.

"We can't keep doing this," she said, her voice thoughtful.

"Doing what?"

"If we're not careful, I'll end up pregnant."

He sighed. He'd been trying not to think about that. Mostly because family planning sounded suspiciously like work, and unnatural besides. It was the normal order of the world for people to fall in love, get married, and make babies. Anything else was more than he wanted to have to mess with.

"What's wrong with getting pregnant?"

"It usually results in an infant, for one thing."

"There are worse things than infants."

"This coming from the man who, I'm quite certain, would claim that diaper-changing was 'the woman's job.'"

"And you and I both know you wouldn't let me get away with that."

She pushed up a little and looked him in the eye. He was relieved to see that she seemed more bemused than annoyed. "Oh, good. I get to mother the baby, _and_ you. Sounds like a blast."

"You know what I mean."

"Chill out, Shikamaru, this isn't going to affect you in any way. I'll get Sakura to give me something."

Oh. Pills. Which meant _she'd_ be in control of whether or not they ever had children. He didn't blame her; it wouldn't be logical for them to start a family without at least waiting until power had changed hands and the rebuilding was complete. This house didn't need any more people in it. But, then, babies were tiny. And they slept in a bassinet all the time, anyway. It's not like they'd need an extra bed, or chair at the dinner table.

She was still watching him, and he saw her eyes widen slightly in the dim light.

"I can't believe it."

"What?"

"You _want_ me to get pregnant."

"Of course I do," he said. "Someday. I already told you that."

"No, you're not thinking _some_day. You're thinking right now. You want me to be pregnant and stuck at home while you go do all the dangerous stuff. I can see it in your eyes."

"Then you're hallucinating, because I'm not thinking anything like that. I already know there's no chance you'd stay at home, pregnant or not. You're troublesome that way."

"I didn't say you were being rational about it," she said. "It's in your biology. Keep your woman incapacitated, and safe in the cave. Make sure she's too fat to waddle off while you're hunting."

He had to smile at the image of Temari fat and waddling, but he was irritated. "You need to _relax,_" he pulled her down beside him and tightened his arm around her, "...and stop attributing weird thoughts to me that I'm not having. I'm not trying to make you stay anywhere."

"Then why are you holding me down right now?"

"Because you move around too much, that's why. Lie still."

She sighed, but she draped an arm across him and put her head on his chest. After a moment he could feel the melting, the way her body conformed to his when she finally stopped fighting. Or when she was asleep. She wasn't asleep, though; her fingers were trailing up and down from his shoulder to his elbow and back. She was quiet for a long time, just touching him, and when she spoke again she sounded reflective. But there was resolve, there, as well.

"I've decided I'm going to," she said.

"Going to what?"

"Stay home with our kids."

"Really?" he said. This was a totally different tune than the one she was singing three days ago.

"Yeah..." She drew in a deep breath, then exhaled, her breath washing over his chest and stomach. "It's the best thing."

"You don't have to do that just because you think I want you to."

"I'm not. I just realized how unfair it would be to a child to force it to live with the fear that, at any moment, he could lose both his mother _and_ his father. It would be cruelty."

He nodded. "I can see it that way."

"And if I left _you_ in charge they'd have to learn to climb into the fridge and heat their own bottles out of self-preservation."

"That's what Kage Nui is for."

"And..." She inhaled deeply again, and he could hardly believe what he felt on his chest: a drop of cool wetness that slowly skittered over his skin, along his ribcage until it fell to the sheets beside him. "And I lost my mother when I was three. I can't do that to my kids."

He reached up and touched her hair, which was surprisingly soft despite all evidence to the contrary. It looked like a haystack right now, one that brushed his chin and tickled his armpit when she moved, and he doubted that even leaving it down while training with the big fan could get the same result. But it slipped between his thumb and forefinger like silk, as frictionless and insubstantial as air.

"God," she breathed. "I am _so_ weak."

He took another piece of wild hair and rubbed it between his fingers. "You're the strongest woman I know. And that's saying something."

"I used to think that kunoichi who left the military to be mothers were pathetic. I mean, what's the point in training for twenty years, getting stronger, taking promotions, just so you can stay at home washing dishes for the next fifty? I thought it was a cop-out, you know?"

He combed his fingers through her hair, trying to push it out of his face, but he ran into a wall of knots and got stuck. She snorted.

"Don't even bother."

"I think..." he said, extricating his fingers, "that it takes a lot of strength to leave one thing you love for something you love more. Just because you might quit being a shinobi doesn't mean you wouldn't miss it every day."

"Which is very easy for a man to say. No one expects you to leave your career to raise a family."

She glanced up at him, almost challenging, and he realized that he could finally see her. Pale yellow sunlight highlighted her cheeks and nose, painting her softer than he'd ever seen her. But when she lifted her arm, making her own futile attempt at getting her hair out of the way, her shoulder muscle stood out, solid and defined.

"I guess that's because, of the two of us, you're the only one that could pull it off."

She raised incredulous eyebrows at him. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"I was hoping it would distract you while I did this." He took the edge of the blanket, which was currently tucked under Temari's arm, and slipped it down, exposing breast and stomach and hip. She was still rolled up against him, back arched in a way that accentuated every curve, and he was dumbstruck by the sight of her skin flush with his, by the knowledge that _her breasts were touching him_. It's not like he hadn't been happily interacting with them all night long, but now he could _see_ them, and was forced to acknowledge the mind-boggling juxtaposition of her beautiful, salacious body with his boring, masculine one. Temari: _woman_. _Hot_ woman. Shikamaru: stupefied specimen of male-ness. Life wasn't fair, but at least this time it had worked in his favor.

He brought fingers to her skin, to touch her and associate this image with what he already knew about her. The shape and fullness of a breast with the weight and softness. He couldn't tear his eyes away until she rolled and wedged her leg in between his, and now he was staring at that drastic jump from her waist to her hip. Wow.

She laughed. "Being married to you is going to be _so_ easy."

He didn't trust himself to respond without babbling.

"Honey..." She stretched like a cat and slithered against him. "...will you buy me a vacation house near the ocean?"

"Ha."

"And a diamond-encrusted fan?"

He was in _so_ much trouble. She wasn't kidding; her body gave her the clear advantage over him. He could already imagine the merciless way she'd tease him with it, and it bothered him that he couldn't decide whether to be worried or excited about that. Only Temari confused him so badly that he didn't know which emotion to express.

But these were battles that could only be fought one at a time, and at the moment he still had the advantage of strength and position, if not seduction. So he used his arm to drag her close to him again and kissed her, and when she struggled, body shaking with laughter, he rolled on top of her and held her to the mattress. She slipped little comments in between kisses.

"Not again..."

"Again."

"But...the bath..."

"Later."

"I've _got_ to talk to Sakura."

"Later."

There was a knock at the door, and Shikamaru growled inadvertently. Seriously. Only Ino would have the nerve to bother newlyweds before the sun was even really up. He was just about to threaten her away, but Temari beat him to the punch.

"If you come in this room I swear to _god_ I'll tear that pretty hair of yours out of your head and choke you to death with it! Now, scram!"

For once in her life, Ino got the hint. And Shikamaru was so impressed with his woman's scariness that he allowed himself to be honest, just for a minute.

"I can't believe I ended up with such an amazing wife. You really got the shaft, you know."

She grinned up at him, and he felt two hands clamp onto his butt and give it a squeeze. "Fine with me," she said. "I like the shaft."

**O O O**

"What are you doing here?"

"I finally realized that if it was anyone's responsibility to stop you, it was mine."

"You need to go home."

"I'm not going home."

What exactly are you planning to do? You have no idea what you're up against."

"And _you_ have underestimated me for the last time."

"You can't kill me. You're still in _love_ with me."

"Well. No one said it was going to be easy."

**O O O**

Shikamaru was nervous about appearing downstairs with Temari for breakfast. It didn't follow that everyone should know instinctively what they'd been up to all night, but there was still that worry that it would simply be obvious. Or that the household had discovered Kankuro was missing, and that Temari had taken his place in Shikamaru's room. Or, worst of all, that Ino had let something slip. He knew that even Ino would have the decency not to gossip about _that_ to the every Tom, Dick, and Harry that passed through, but she might very well talk about it with Chouji and be overheard. In fact, just talking about it with Chouji would be bad enough. Shikamaru was long past the point where he could hide anything from those two, but the thought of them discussing his love life was very unsettling. Not to mention the fact that Chouji, without a doubt, would be _incapable_ of not flashing him a grin when he appeared. A thoughtful, supportive friend, Chouji was always the first one to celebrate Shikamaru's "successes" as if they were his own. Never before now had he considered what a liability that could be.

So he took a little extra time getting dressed. This also afforded him the opportunity to watch Temari as _she_ got dressed, which was at the same time stimulating and frustrating. The sight of her pulling fishnet stockings up her thighs did all kinds of nice things for his brain and his body, but he was thwarted by the knowledge that, once in place, those stockings probably wouldn't be coming off any time soon.

And Temari wasn't making it any easier, with the little flourishes she added to every movement. She got both stockings in place and smoothed her skirt down over them, then shot him a smirk. And when she turned away and reached for her sash, he heard her say to herself, "..._so_ easy..."

"Hey," he said. "This is the effects of hormones on the male brain. It'll wear off eventually."

She nodded without turning around. "Sure it will."

But it was his turn to gloat as she tried to get her hair separated into her normal four pigtails. She grimaced as she worked her fingers through it, the brush having been long abandoned, then she glared at him.

"Keep laughing," she said, "and I'll shave it off. I hear being bald decreases wind resistance."

"So shave it." He crossed his hands behind his head and leaned back against the wall. "I'll just amuse myself with the rest of you."

"Not with that attitude, you won't."

She finally gave up on her hair and tied it back into one, thick ponytail that looked like a tumbleweed on the back of her head. Then they headed downstairs, Shikamaru bracing himself for any strange looks, "meaningful" glances, or just acknowledgment in general. He didn't think he'd be able to trust even a smile and a good morning. But maybe everything would be okay. Maybe no one had said anything, and Ino was keeping the fact that Temari hadn't come into her room last night to herself.

He needn't have worried. When they got to the stairs they could already tell something serious was happening on the floor below; hushed but hurried voices wafted up toward them, and when they stepped into the main entryway they were met by no less than two dozen uniformed chuunin and jounin, all from Dad's team. None of them spared a glance for Shikamaru or Temari; they were obviously occupied, standing in groups of twos and threes, or milling around, most of them shoveling rice out of Styrofoam bowls. As they watched, three chuunin left the house through the side door and were almost immediately replaced by three more. The new ones headed straight for the dining room table and served themselves rice out of Mom's army-sized cooker.

Something was wrong. He could tell on several levels, the most superficial of which was the fact that people were standing up to eat as if they didn't have time to sit cross-legged on the floor, and to do so in his mother's house was usually an offense met with a tongue-lashing or, for Shikamaru, a whack on the head with the blunt end of his own chopsticks.

But there was more to it than that, a wavelength of anxiety and worry that seemed to permeate the room and every individual in it. Shikamaru searched for Chouji and Ino, found them sitting at the end of the table amid their moms and dads. Ino's face was rigid, set like pale marble, and Chouji's body was oriented toward hers offering his non-intrusive brand of comfort. Temari's face showed that she was picking up the same vibes he was, and together they began to head toward Chouji. But they were stopped by a voice, louder than the others.

"Yo, lovebirds! 'Bout time you guys showed up. We were about to send a rescue party in after you."

It was Kiba, standing near the side door. He gave them half of a smile, but it was obvious his heart wasn't in it and after only a second he let it fall. Then he gestured them over. It was a mark of how heavy the mood was that they weren't teased as they passed Shikamaru's senpais from work, despite the way Kiba had blatantly drawn attention to them. Even Genma and Anko only gave him solemn nods before going back to their rice.

When they reached Kiba they saw that he wasn't alone. The rest of his team was there, sans Kurenai, and so were Lee and Tenten. And, to Shikamaru's surprise and relief, Neji.

The first thing Temari did was walk up to Kiba and grab a handful of his shirt.

"_You're_ going to need a rescue party if you don't learn to keep comments like that to yourself."

He smirked, but this time with a semblance of actual mirth. "Nice hair."

She stepped in closer, but Shikamaru put a hand on her lower back to get her attention. At the gesture he felt her relax slightly, then she finally backed off, fingers relenting.

"What's going on?" he asked the group at large, paying particular attention to Neji. There was nothing readable in his face, but the fact that he was here with such a large faction of Kakashi's supporters spoke volumes.

And it was Neji that answered, only one word, in a voice even lower than his normal monotone. "Sasuke."

Shikamaru froze. _Sasuke_? That was so far away from what he'd been expecting that he didn't know what to think. What did Sasuke have to do with anything?

"Kankuro caught him sneaking into the village last night," Tenten said, elaborating. "He tried to keep a tail on him, but when he lost him he had to warn Shikaku-san." Her eyes narrowed like she was personally offended. "He's had us looking for him all night, but no luck."

"But, why?" said Temari. "Why would he be in Konoha?"

It was Shino that answered, his expression unreadable behind his glasses. "Shikamaru's father has a couple of theories, but the honest answer is that no one knows."

"Are you sure he's still in the village?" Shikamaru said.

"Definitely," said Kiba. "I can smell where he came in; it's about eight hours old. But there's nothing fresh enough to convince me that he left."

"So why can't you just follow the scent to where he is?" Temari asked.

Kiba sighed, annoyed. When he spoke it was mechanical, like he'd been over the same thing a thousand times. "Sasuke is smarter than that. He came with a group, so I couldn't separate out his individual scent, then the group split in half and I had no way of knowing which direction he'd gone. And then _those_ two groups split. And on top of that he's _disrupting_ everything around him..." He squinted and rubbed his forehead with one hand. "I can't explain it, but there's something around him that makes him hard to trace. His scent, his..." He nodded to Hinata, who watched him with wide, worried eyes. "His chakra signal. We should be able to find him but we can't."

Untraceable. It didn't makes sense; if Sasuke could disturb the area around him enough that he couldn't be found, then couldn't they at least find the point at which the disruption started? But if it were that easy, someone would have done it. Neji, Hinata, Kiba, Shino...one of them would have located him him. Or, barring those, Inoichi would have.

"So you've known about this all night?" Shikamaru said. "Why didn't Dad tell _us_?"

He looked around at the group, waiting for an answer; no one seemed inclined to give one. But then the man himself appeared from the kitchen, holding his own Styrofoam bowl and a pair of disposable chopsticks.

"Because someone threatened to, what was it?" He tapped his chin gently with the clean end of the chopsticks, and his eyes fell on Temari. "Oh, that's right. Choke me to death with my pretty hair if I bothered you."

This drew the laughter that Kiba's comment hadn't, a weary chuckle that rolled across the room. But it died quickly, good humor too easily lost in the oppressive atmosphere.

Sasuke. Hiding himself in the village with a team, and for what purpose? He was officially a missing-Nin, a member of Akatsuki, and every Chuunin and Jounin in Konoha was charged with responsibility of killing him on sight. So why come back into Konoha now?

He glanced toward Ino, who was crying at this point, or maybe just hiding her face in her hands. Chouji patted her shoulder awkwardly, his face etched with same concern Shikamaru could see reflected on every face in this room. It shouldn't be like this. One selfish individual should not have the power to depress an entire group of people. A group of people that, quite frankly, had a lot more to worry about than an errant ninja, like the fact that two days from now Suna would be here to help them take Danzo and his subordinates down. They couldn't afford to waste a single minute on anything that wouldn't directly affect the outcome of that.

But, the _timing_; could it possibly be a coincidence that Sasuke was showing up with a battle on the horizon?

"Wait," said Shikamaru. "Do you think Danzo's enlisted Sasuke to-"

Dad was already shaking his head. "Danzo may be glad to see Sasuke, but not for the reasons you're thinking. Danzo wants Sasuke dead. And from the information I've received, it seems like Sasuke feels the same way."

"Sasuke's here to kill _Danzo_?"

Dad glanced at Chouza and Inoichi, who were watching him intently. "That's what we're thinking. And I don't think I need to explain to you why we can't let that happen."

No, he didn't. Danzo had to die, but not until they had Root and his other supporters subdued. If Sasuke killed Danzo before Gaara made it to Konoha, the subsequent retaliation by Root and the scramble for Danzo's old position would undoubtedly cost civilian lives, and force Dad to start from square one. And that didn't even take into consideration the _shinobi_ that would die in the inevitable battle. As it stood, Konoha had been obliterated right off the map, but at least they still had the semblance of a functioning government to hold them together. That's why it was imperative that Danzo and his pals all be removed and replaced simultaneously, stealthily, and with scalpel-like precision. Any upset to the tenuous illusion of unity and safety would be detrimental, especially if it was the hokage himself that was defeated by a dangerous, rogue nin. There would be panic.

"Do you think there's any chance he'll succeed?" Shikamaru asked.

"That's an unknown," said Dad. "We have a vague idea of Danzo's skill level, but there's no one left alive that can tell us exactly how Danzo battles. We know he has the Sharingan; we know he strong enough to defeat both Koharu and Homura. But that's _all_ we know."

"And Sasuke is a question mark."

"Right," said Dad. "So stopping Sasuke before he gets to Danzo has to be treated as vital to the success of this coup. Barring that, we have to set up a watch around Danzo to make sure no one gets in until Gaara arrives."

"But how can you protect Danzo without him seeing us as a united front?" asked Temari.

"That's what I'm working on right now," he said. As if to emphasize this, he scooped up the last bit of his rice and headed back through the kitchen, dropping the bowl and chopsticks into the trashcan on his way out the side door.

Temari's eyebrows furrowed as she watched him go, then she turned the look on Kiba and Neji.

"Where's my brother? Is he still looking for Sasuke?"

"No," said Lee. "Shikaku-san assigned him to find Naruto and bring him here."

She gave a brusque nod. "Good. He'll want to help if he knows-"

But Neji interrupted her, voice calm, but indisputable. "We're not telling him."

Shikamaru watched Temari's face go blank, then her lip curled with confusion and anger. "What do you mean we're not telling him? This is his fight, too, you know. He deserves to be with you guys-"

"Those are Shikaku-san's orders," he said. "No one tells Naruto until we've captured Sasuke. He's too likely to try and find him on his own."

"So assign him to a team and let him _help_," said Temari. "Isn't that the obvious solution, rather than lying to him?" She growled an inarticulate phrase, the gist and crudeness of which Shikamaru caught, if not the actual words, and rubbed her face with both hands. But he was proud of the way she controlled herself afterward. He could tell she wanted to rant some more, but was trying to be a good subordinate.

The truth was, though, he felt the same way she did. And he told her so. "But I know why Dad doesn't want Naruto on any of the teams. Stopping Sasuke will have to be a totally covert operation, and Naruto isn't capable of fighting that way. And the last thing we need is for the village to see us _protecting_ Danzo."

"I guess you're right," she said. "If we publicly help Danzo, it'll serve as a political endorsement."

"Exactly. The civilians can't know about this."

There was something suddenly different about the climate around them, and the difference was silence. Their friends had gone quiet and Shikamaru found himself searching the faces to figure out why.

"What's wrong with you people?" Temari asked, echoing his sentiment.

The members of Team Kurenai and Team Gai glanced at each other, and it was Hinata who finally said, in her diffident way, "Well...we've never seen the two of you agree on anything." She ducked her head, but Shikamaru could see a hint of a smile on her lips.

"What are you talking about?" he said. "We agree on stuff."

Tenten laughed. "Since when?"

"I have a guess," said Kiba, grinning. He flared his nostrils at Temari, and even Neji was wearing a wry smile.

"You guys are welcome to shut up," Temari said. "I don't have to take this from a bunch of snot-nosed chuunin."

"Neji's a jounin," Shikamaru said.

"You shut up, too."

Kiba glanced at his watch. "It's time for us to go," he said. "We're supposed to be clear before Kankuro gets back with Naruto. The official story is that Naruto will be assigned to keep watch on the two of you from the inside, but really you guys will just be keeping him occupied until we're done with Sasuke."

"Clever," said Temari. She was obviously unimpressed.

"Please pass our gratitude on to your mother for providing breakfast," said Neji.

"I think you mean 'dinner,'" said Kiba.

"Whichever. We'll take care of this problem and be back as soon as we can."

"Wait a minute," said Shikamaru, stopping him before he could follow the others outside. "We?"

He nodded. "Yes, 'we.' Hiashi-sama was forced to make a quick decision last night when this Sasuke issue came up. I suspect it was more emotional than logical, at that point, but I'm not in a position to criticize."

Shikamaru keep his opinions to himself, but he doubted Hiashi's capacity for 'emotional' decisions.

"I'm relieved that you're with us," Shikamaru said.

"I admit that I am, also." He didn't elaborate, but bowed slightly and let himself out the side door. He was followed by several other shinobi; there were only a couple of stragglers left, now, finishing off the last of the rice. Mom hurried around, her hair pulled back in a blue bandana, cleaning up bowls and wiping down the table.

"Sasuke," said Temari.

"Yeah." He wasn't sure what else to say. The name itself was portentous enough to convey all the problems that came along with it.

"We don't need this right now."

"I know. Leave it to him to be gone for almost four years, then show up at the worst possible moment."

Temari glanced over her shoulder at Ino, a frown in her eyes. "I don't know what's up with your girlfriend, but I think you should talk to her. She doesn't look like herself."

Shikamaru sighed. He'd assumed this moment was coming, but he'd been dreading it. He didn't mind comforting Ino, but talking to her about Sasuke was not something he felt qualified for. Her feelings for Sasuke were beyond what he was capable of relating to, and, really, guy problems were something that she needed a girl for. But when he tried using his eyes to plead with Temari, she balked.

"You're barking up the wrong tree if you think I know anything about girl talk. If I go over there I'll end up slapping her and telling her to get over it."

He was still formulating an argument when Mom called to Temari from the kitchen door.

"Temari-chan, there's a bowl by your feet. Do you see it?"

She looked down. "Yeah. I'll get it."

"Thank you, dear."

Temari bent over to snag the used bowl. "I think that means I've been drafted," she said. "Go talk to Ino."

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, yeah."

"And be nice."

"If I say something that makes her suicidal, it's all your fault."

"You won't. I have every faith in you."

He watched as Temari headed into the kitchen to help Mom, then he took a deep breath and made his way to the table. It was empty now, except for Ino and Chouji, and Chouji seemed, although supportive, rather out of his depth. Shikamaru understood the feeling.

But he cleared his throat and sat down on the other side of Ino. It took him a couple of tries to get his chair positioned just like he wanted it, then another half-minute to push enough dirty bowls out of the way to cross his arms in front of him on the table. But when he leaned over the chair felt strange again, and he had to scoot it back another inch.

When he was finally situated he looked up to see Ino watching him with eyes that were half-expectant, half-tired. As if she _wanted_ comfort or advice, but already knew he was going to fail at it. He cleared his throat again, and his eyes fell on her bowl of rice. Huh. She hadn't even touched it. And the rice cooker looked empty; maybe she wouldn't mind if he helped himself.

He pointed at the bowl. "You didn't eat."

Her face went from pitiful to intimidating in a flash. "Don't nag me about my weight, Shikamaru. I'm so sick of it."

Stunned, he looked at Chouji for help. Chouji smiled sympathetically, but that was all the "help" he got.

"I'm _not_," Shikamaru said. "I'm just hungry."

"Fine." She shoved the bowl toward him; the Styrofoam made it stutter across the wooden table. "I don't know how you guys can eat at a time like this."

He shrugged. "Eating isn't such an emotional issue for men. It's just something we do."

She shot a glare at him, leaving him wondering again what he'd done wrong. This was obviously not working; she'd probably be better off if he just shut up and ate the rice.

"I know what you guys are thinking," Ino said. "Both of you. You're thinking I'm crazy for even caring about him."

"No one thinks you're crazy, Ino," said Chouji.

"Shikamaru does. He thinks that people who put any faith in Sasuke-kun are deluding themselves."

There was no way Shikamaru could reply to that. He had, in fact, said those exact words to Ino on numerous occasions.

"The thing is..." Her voice got very quiet, eyes dropping to the table. "I feel the same way. Don't you think I know how he is, now?" She sniffed, and two wet drops splattered onto the table's surface. "Don't you think I know how pathetic it is for me to still care about him?"

Chouji's eyebrows furrowed, Ino's pain reflected there like it was his own.

"Ino..."

"And, you know, for a while I thought I _had_ gotten over him," she said. "But now he's back and I..." She sniffed again, louder, and her voice began to shake. "I _hate_ this."

There was a pause, here, so Shikamaru dug around in his brain for something to say. Something neutral, because she was doing a pretty good job of talking about her problems all on her own.

"We know, Ino."

"You don't _know_," she said, suddenly angry, and he recoiled out of self-preservation. "What do you know about anything? You have _Temari_. The woman you've been in love with for four years. What do I have?"

"Four years?" he said. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, just admit it. You've liked her ever since you came back from your first chuunin mission. It was _so_ obvious."

At this, Temari appeared in the kitchen door. She raised an eyebrow at him, but all he could do was shrug. He was embarrassed, and he didn't know what Ino was talking about, anyway. And he really wished Temari wasn't eavesdropping on this abysmal failure of a counseling session.

"You guys don't know what it's like to love someone who doesn't love you back," Ino said. "It just..." She clutched at her chest with one hand. "It _eats_ at you. It never leaves you alone. Years pass and you think you've moved on, and then someone says his name and it's like...you're thrilled and excited and nauseous and furious at yourself because you realize you never really got over it. You were just lying to yourself."

Shikamaru recognized another pause, but by this time he had to sense to keep his mouth shut. Eventually, Ino went on without his prompt.

"I know what I need," she said. "I need closure. I need him to _look me in the eye_ and tell me he doesn't care about me, and he never will. Maybe then I can move on."

"I don't think I'd wish for that," said Shikamaru. "If he looks you in the eye, it probably means he's about to kill you."

He didn't really mean to say that, and he expected her to blow up in response. So when she giggled, he really _did_ wonder if she was going crazy.

"Yeah. Killing me would definitely help me move on."

"Ha."

"But, you know, I'm starting to think I'm just destined to love him forever. And I'll probably turn into this bitter, pathetic old maid, my whole life wasted from pining."

"But at least you'll be alive," he said.

She sighed, then met his gaze. "You're terrible at this."

"It's just because you're female," he said, although he wondered if that was true. Things seemed to work pretty naturally between himself and Temari; there had been times he'd attempted to comfort her, and the result was that she'd been comforted. But maybe that was a married-people thing. "Chouji and I shouldn't be the ones to talk to you about this. You need Sakura, or some other woman..."

But he trailed off at the look on Ino's face. All the color drained out in an instant, and her eyes widened in horror.

"Oh my god."

"What?"

She stood from her chair, chest heaving. "Oh, my god, Shikamaru. Sakura. I forgot all about Sakura!"

"What about Sakura?" he said. "It's probably better that she not know about this."

"But what if she finds out?" She slapped her hands onto the table in front of him and stared at him. Her cheeks were still wet, but her eyes were cold and bright with fear and worry. "Do you know what she said to me after Danzo ordered that Sasuke-kun be put to death? I thought she was just bragging, but now I get it!"

He shook his head. "What?"

"She said that Sasuke-kun was hers to worry about, and no one else's."

He immediately grasped where she was going with this, because he'd had a similar conversation with Sakura: that Sasuke, as their former classmate and their contemporary, was not a problem that should be shuffled to another generation. But he never considered that Sakura would take it so personally. She was strong, but strong enough to handle Sasuke? He had no idea.

"Do you think she'll really take him on by herself?" Shikamaru asked.

"I _know_ she will," Ino said. "She's crazy like that. I have to get to her first."

"What are you going to tell her?"

"I don't know...I'll tell her Naruto needs help watching you guys or something. Anything. I'll worry about that after I find her."

She bolted for the door, only stopping long enough to grab one of the spare pouches of kunai that hung from hooks in the front entryway. "Chouji! Help me!"

Shikamaru felt Chouji lumber to his feet, watched him hurry to join Ino.

"Make sure you tell your dad where we went," Ino said. "Maybe he can send some back-up." Then she yanked open the door and disappeared down the walk, Chouji hot on her heels.

**O O O**

Luckily Dad hadn't left the compound, so Shikamaru was able to hunt him down and pass on Ino's message to him. Kankuro arrived later with Naruto, who took to his role as "bodyguard" with surprising tact. It was yet another reminder that Naruto had grown up in a lot of ways, even if he was still painfully immature in others, as evidenced by the first thing he said to Shikamaru after walking through the front door.

"So, did you guys do it?"

There wasn't much point in lying, or beating around the bush. And he figured that Naruto wasn't being crude, per say, it's just that he said what was on his mind and occasionally needed the obvious spelled out for him so that he could be on the same page as everyone else. After a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure Temari wasn't sneaking up behind him, he said, "Yeah, Naruto. We did it."

He nodded as if he'd suspected as much.

"I'll thank you both not to discuss that in my presence," Kankuro said. "Things are bad enough without adding nightmares to the list."

Kankuro seemed relieved when he went out again shortly thereafter, leaving it to Shikamaru and Temari to play out the agreed-upon farce for Naruto. They chatted, played Shougi, and, in the case of Naruto, snacked on whatever he could find in the kitchen. The only evidence that things weren't quite as they seemed was the fact that Dad kept popping on and off of the property, and the way that Mom was being even more obsessive that usual about cleaning the house. Luckily, though, Naruto wasn't around often enough to know how they usually behaved, so he was able to easily accept rather unbelievable explanations for particularly strange behavior.

"Isn't that the second time your mom has cleaned the bathroom?"

Shikamaru turned to see Mom at the end of the hall, upside down as she scrubbed out the toilet with a sponge and a rubber glove. That was her way, and he was so used to it that it never occurred to him to question it anymore. When things got stressful, Mom cleaned. Many were the afternoons that Shikamaru would come home from Academy to find all the sheets hanging out on the line, punched in the face with the smell of ammonia when he walked in the front door, and the atmosphere between his parents as cool as a January evening in Yuki. By the time this reclamation was over they were going to be able to _drink_ from the toilet.

"Probably," Shikamaru said. "She really likes to clean."

Naruto grinned and elbowed Temari in the ribs. "You have a lot to live up to."

"Don't bank on it."

Just then Dad slipped in the side door; Shikamaru caught his eye and raised his eyebrows. Dad shook his head minutely and he interpreted that to mean "No Sasuke, no Sakura." In truth, he'd never been too worried about Sakura; whether or not it was true that she was determined to handle Sasuke by herself, that didn't mean that would know he was in the village, or be able to find him if she did. He'd assumed that Ino would go to the hospital, pass on Dad's "orders," and return with Sakura in tow within twenty minutes. But three hours had come and gone with no sign of either of the girls, and he was getting concerned.

"Hey, Nara-san," said Naruto. "Do you have any tricks to help me beat Shikamaru at Shougi?"

Dad strolled over, face haggard but his eyes interested. Shikamaru was in the middle of his third game with Naruto, who was improving little as time went on. But at least he was no longer taking it personally; it seemed like he finally grasped that he wasn't losing because he sucked, but only because Shikamaru was very, very good. And Shikamaru had never been the type to let an opponent win or have a free move just to boost his self-esteem.

"Beating Shikamaru, huh?" Dad crossed his arms and stared at the half-finished game. "I suggest a full-frontal assault. Conserve your numbers and your energy until you can launch an attack from all angles, and don't let up for even one move. Your strength is his greatest weakness: explosive maneuvers that don't give him time to think. And your pawns are your best asset until that time; use them as a barrier instead of sacrificing them the way that most people do."

Naruto nodded, absorbing it all like a sponge, and Shikamaru could only stare up at Dad in shock. What was _this_? When had Dad ever given _him_ advice on how to beat someone at Shougi? It was always, "Think ahead, Shikamaru," and "Consider the angles, Shikamaru," and "Don't neglect your fundamentals." In other words, generalities that never gave him the impression that he'd been advised at all.

And, as embarrassing as it was to admit it, he was a little hurt. It was painful to hear his father delineate his weak points like he was reading an inventory list, as if everyone in the world knew them because of how obvious they were.

"Don't look so betrayed," said Dad. "Instead think about what I've said, and learn from it."

"Easy for you to say," Shikamaru said. He knew he was being a little bratty, but he couldn't help it. "I've never beaten you."

"That's because..." Dad leaned his head back and looked at the ceiling, thoughtful. "Let's just call it a technicality, Shikamaru. I expect it to happen any day. And the only reason I know your flaws so well is because I see my own reflected in you."

Shikamaru sighed. "I've tried to figure out what it would take for me to beat you, and whatever it is, I don't have it. I only have what you've taught me, which will only ever put me at par with you."

Dad surprised him by laughing. "It's like having my own words thrown back at me. Listen: even now, you have an advantage over me that would probably help you win, if you figured out how to use it."

"And what's that," he said. He didn't expect a real answer, just another riddle-like piece of advice, so he didn't understand Dad's response right away.

"Your memory."

"My memory of what."

"No, son. Your _eidetic_ memory. That's your advantage over me."

Shikamaru stared at him, dumbfounded. "Eidetic memory? But I thought I got that from _you._"

"Nope. That one is vintage Yoshino."

Shikamaru could still see Mom cleaning the bathroom from here, only now she was lying in the floor, legs stretched out into the hall so that she could scrub around the bottom edge of the toilet. _Mom_ was the one with photographic memory? Now that he thought about it, it wasn't all that hard to believe. No wonder she had never, in sixteen years, failed to remember exactly what he'd said and use it against him in an argument.

"You have two parents," Dad said, "not one. The day that you learn how to use the skills you got from both of us will be the day you beat me. And it'll be the day you surpass me as a shinobi. But as it stands, you're only half of a genius."

Dad patted him on the shoulder before heading down the hall toward the bathroom, as if that was going to make the sting go away. He didn't know if he should feel hopeful or crushed, and the look on Temari's face wasn't helping. She seemed just as puzzled as he was.

Naruto, however, jumped straight into trying to make Shikamaru feel better.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'm not even half a genius, and look I good I turned out."

He laughed wistfully. "It's not all it's cracked up to be."

The front door opened; Ino and Chouji walked in looking dejected and exhausted. Ino flashed a worried look at Shikamaru before mouthing, _Nara-san?_

He jerked his head toward the bathroom and Ino peered down the hall, then headed that way. He didn't need her to tell him that they'd been thus far unsuccessful, but he wished that there was a way to get details of their search. It was _so_ frustrating to be stuck in this house playing Shougi while everyone did the work, while Sasuke was on the loose and their efforts were possibly crumbling, while Sakura was officially missing, and he assumed that Temari was going even more stir-crazy than he was. She was the opposite of the sit-around-and-do-nothing type.

And Shougi wasn't number two on the list of the things he'd like to be doing, either; actually number two was look for Sasuke. The number _one_ thing he'd like to be doing was Temari. But pretty much anything would be better than this mindless inactivity.

In later weeks, this would be the exact moment that he would look back to as the one he'd wish he could change. Not that his words had any power, but he'd never quite be able to get over the feeling that he'd cursed everything with that thought. That desire for something, anything, to happen so that he could be get busy and stop wasting his time with Shougi.

The doorbell rang, and before Shikamaru could even think about climbing to his feet Naruto had leaped to his and was standing by his side. And Dad actually _ran_ through the living room, skirting the board to get to the door first. Right behind him was Mom, still wearing her bandana and a faded old apron.

"I want the three of you to stay where you are," Dad said. "If there's trouble, hide yourselves in the forest and stay there until I send someone for you. Understand?"

"Why?" said Shikamaru. "What's going on?"

Dad glanced over his shoulder. "Have you forgotten that you're out of compliance with direct orders from the Hokage?"

He _had_. Completely forgotten. He'd been so distracted by Temari's body and the search for Sasuke and Sakura that Danzo's orders had escaped him. And he remembered what Dad had said, about using _all_ of his skills. What good was it to be able to predict the enemy if you didn't take time to think back and remember his previous moves?

Dad made eye contact with Mom; an agreement passed between the two of them. Then he opened the door.

It was Sai that stood there, glancing back and forth from Mom to Dad. His face was as emotionless as ever, and for an uncomfortable moment Shikamaru flashed back to his fight with the Cat. He felt guilty for comparing Sai to the woman, but he knew that, if ordered to kill Shikamaru, Sai might have behaved in exactly the same way. In fact, he might be here to act on orders just like that.

"Sai," said Dad.

"Nara-san."

"How can I help you?"

"I've come at Danzo-sama's orders," Sai said.

"Let me guess: you're here to arrest my son?"

Sai nodded once. "That's my official business with you. But I have personal business to attend to, and..." He paused, contemplative. "...I think that the most effective order of execution would be personal first, official last."

"State your personal business."

Nothing about Sai's face changed: his gaze didn't waver, there was no hint of distress. But Shikamaru could feel it, anyway. Interference in the transmission, so high-pitched that you couldn't be sure of what you heard. Something imperceptible, but undeniably _there_.

"Sakura's dead."

Silence. Airlessness. Ino had walked up beside Chouji just as Dad was opening the door, and he could feel her shock like a building collapsing in on itself. If Sai was the high-pitched frequency, Ino was the empty glass, and he'd shattered her with a word, with one solid crack, and now the tiny, glistening shards were crumbling to the ground.

"Dead?" she whispered. He watched her fingers come up to Chouji's arm, clutching him as if she was afraid she might fall. "How can she be _dead_?"

Shikamaru was shocked, too. Or maybe numb was a better word. Ino had predicted this, or something like it. It couldn't be coincidence that this had happened on the same day that Sasuke was slithering around the village, undetectable.

Naruto was just standing there, face blank. But then he woke up, and in an instant he was standing in front of Sai, gripping his collar, his face contorted beyond recognition. Sai's eyes widened slightly at his proximity, but he didn't move.

"This _isn't_ funny," Naruto said, each individual word forced through his throat and out between his teeth. "I get it: you're learning how to pull pranks. But this isn't the kind of prank that gets laughs, Sai." He jerked Sai forward, until they were nose-to-nose. "This is the kind of prank that gets you killed."

"What would make you think I'm playing a prank?"

Naruto stared at him, teeth bared, chest heaving. But after a long, tense moment, his hand fell from Sai's jacket. He deflated, his face melting into horrified disbelief. Pain in his voice made it crack.

"She's really dead?"

"Yes."

He exhaled a shuddering breath, then another. "Why? I mean, how..." He gasped, then tears began to rain down his cheeks. "She was _fine_ yesterday. How could she—why would she-" He tried to continue through his tears, but his body was shaking, then he buckled, sank to his knees, and Mom got down beside him and wrapped her arms around him.

Sai blinked. "She was killed in battle. The condition of her corpse-"

"Sai," Dad said, warning. "Save the details for later."

"Sakura-chan..." Naruto's voice sounded like a small child's, lonely and broken and scared, completely unaffected by the comfort Mom was trying to give. "Why would she fight without me? If she had a battle, why wouldn't she..." He glanced up at Sai. "Was she attacked?"

"No," said Sai. The grating pitch that accompanied his voice was intensifying, and Shikamaru still had no clue what part of his brain was picking it up. "It looks like she instigated."

"Then why not ask us for _help_? We could have helped her if she'd told us she was going to fight."

"Maybe she didn't know until the last minute," Temari said. She caught Shikamaru's gaze, and he understood: there was no reason to tell Naruto the truth about why Sakura might have been suddenly compelled to attack someone. Not now. "Maybe she saw an enemy that had to be immediately addressed."

It raised questions in Shikamaru's mind, though. Why, if Sasuke could hide himself from everyone in Konoha, would he let Sakura see him? Could it possibly have been an accident? Didn't seem likely. But, then, what motive could Sasuke have for engaging her?

"Sai!" Naruto said suddenly, staring up from his place on the floor. "I think, maybe, there's something we can still do!"

"I don't think so, Naruto..."

"I've _seen_ someone brought back to life," he said. "There's got to be something like that, that we can do. It's still early, right? This isn't like Jiraiya; we can probably still help her." The hope on his face was painful to see. "Someone needs to sacrifice themselves, though. I can do that." He nodded, resolute. "She can have my life, okay? Just...we just need someone who can perform the jutsu..."

Dad and Mom looked at each other; Shikamaru could see that Mom was crying, too. Sharing in Naruto's grief and misplaced hope. And Temari took it upon herself to crush that particular hope, as difficult as it was. "That jutsu, Naruto-there aren't many people left alive that can do it. It takes an extremely accomplished puppet master-"

"But we have Kankuro! Maybe he knows how-"

"No," she said, firmly so that she wouldn't be misunderstood. "Kankuro doesn't know how. I've never heard of anyone but Chiyo and Sasori that could do it, and they're both dead."

The hope in Naruto's eyes clouded, faded, replaced by despair.

"How could this have happened," he said again. "I _just_ saw her yesterday. You saw yesterday, too, right Sai?"

But Sai didn't answer, except with a question of his own. He was staring at the palms of his hands, and Shikamaru's attention was drawn there, too. They twitched, so minutely as to almost be missed. "Naruto..." He looked from his hands to his sobbing teammate. "Is this pain?"

There was a shuffle, movement at his left, and Temari got up and crossed the room in defiance of her orders. It was she that yanked Sai inside the house and closed the door, then pulled him into her arms. Sai stood there rigidly, neither fighting nor returning the embrace, but the high-pitched frequency in Shikamaru's mind dulled, became a low hum in the background instead of a piercing, agonizing squeal.

"This is my fault," said Ino. Her voice wavered, but he could tell she was trying to stoically accept what she believed was her responsibility. "I should have remembered. I should have warned her earlier."

Naruto's eyes widened, bright blue clashing with the red rims. "Warned her about what?"

Ino shook her head, but Naruto climbed to his feet and hurried to her, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Warned her about _what_, Ino-chan?"

Ino quailed at the look in his eyes, glanced at Shikamaru, then Dad, then shook her head again.

"Naruto, I just-"

He shook her by the shoulders, not hard, but enough to make Chouji clamp a firm hand around his arm.

"Ino-chan, _please_. If you know who did this to her, you have to tell me."

Before she could respond, a new voice caused them all to start.

"Do you really want to know?"

Shikamaru realized who it was before he looked; he doubted he'd ever forget that voice because of the attention it commanded. Low and cold, incapable of any emotion but fury. And right now it was as intense as ever, not angry, but matter-of-fact. A heartlessness that made ice form in the pit of Shikamaru's stomach.

Sasuke.

Shikamaru turned to see him standing in the dining room, the side door still open behind him, a warm evening breeze rippling the hem and sleeves of his robe.

And he was staring out at them all through clear, emerald-green eyes.

* * *

**A/N 2:** Well. If you haven't backspaced in disgust, then let's chat. Yes, Sakura's really dead. I have nothing against her; in fact, I came very close to killing someone else instead. But I finally realized, with a giant facepalm, that my story would only work if it was Sakura that died. Sad, but true. Please, guys, don't think I randomly bumped her off out of boredom. I have huge reasons for everything I do.

You know what's annoying? I read through Arranged before posting this chapter to make sure there were no grievous inconsistencies, and I found like fifteen typos. And an irritating switch from "Roots" to "Root" somewhere in the middle. But I can't fix any of them because my documents expired! GAH. Oh, well. I'm writing this story on a tiny little Netbook, and I'm using _Wordpad_, of all things. So I'd say I'm doing pretty darn good. As it is, I'll probably come back and edit this chapter later, just for typos. I'm running 102 right now and I'm not sure I'm really publishing, or just having a beautiful dream in which I actually get something accomplished.

Sorry about how long it took me to update, and a thousand apologies to the lovely people that reviewed last time, and that I did not respond to. I usually do make sure to respond, but there was Nanowrimo/Thanksgiving/Finals/Christmas and now here we are, a week into January and I'm begging for forgiveness. :)

Thanks for reading, and please give me review love!


	13. Unanticipated

**_Last time, in Arranged:_**

_Shikamaru took the edge of the blanket, which was currently tucked under Temari's arm, and slipped it down, exposing breast and stomach and hip. She was still rolled up against him, back arched in a way that accentuated every curve, and was forced to acknowledge the mind-boggling juxtaposition of her beautiful, salacious body with his boring, masculine one. Temari: woman. Hot woman. Shikamaru: stupefied specimen of male-ness. Life wasn't fair, but at least this time it had worked in his favor._

**O O O**

_"Sakura's dead."_

_Naruto gasped, then tears began to rain down his cheeks. "She was fine yesterday. How could she—why would she-" He tried to continue through his tears, but his body was shaking, then he buckled, sank to his knees, and Mom got down beside him and wrapped her arms around him._

_"This is my fault," said Ino. Her voice wavered, but he could tell she was trying to stoically accept what she believed was her responsibility. "I should have remembered. I should have warned her earlier."_

_Naruto's eyes widened, bright blue clashing with the red rims. "Warned her about what?"_

_Before she could respond, a new voice caused them all to start. "Do you really want to know?"_

_Shikamaru realized who it was before he looked; he doubted he'd ever forget that voice because of the attention it commanded. Low and cold, incapable of any emotion but fury._

_Sasuke._

_He turned to see him standing in the dining room, the side door still open behind him, a warm evening breeze rippling the hem and sleeves of his robe._

_And he was staring out at them all through clear, emerald-green eyes._

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Unanticipated**

"Don't lie to them."

"Stop telling me what to do."

"You know, I think I like this new arrangement. You can threaten me all you want, but there's no way you can retaliate if I don't obey."

"Yes, there is. Keep annoying me and I'll claw your eyes out."

"That's okay. You clawed my heart out a long time ago."

**O O O**

Shikamaru had only ever seen eyes like that on one other human being. So bright and clear that they reflected everything like green glass: the afternoon sky, white hospital walls, his own image as they'd stared down at him with chastisement and concern. The were a genetic anomaly, probably caused by a recessive gene on a saturation loci which also explained the red hair that was so diffused that it looked pink. A relative of albinism, although no one would have ever called it that. Rare enough to stand out wildly among a population of mostly dark-haired, dark-eyed shinobi. Almost no chance of being passed on to the next generation. A unique and exotic brand of beauty that would have died with Sakura.

And, now, those eyes were in his living room.

He'd never seen them framed with such cruelty. Iced over with hate; as intensely horrific in Sasuke's possession as they had been intensely beautiful when they belonged to Sakura. And they examined the room, glancing over each individual before landing on Naruto. For a moment the two were locked in a silent, unblinking stare. Then Naruto jumped to his feet and dashed toward Sasuke, who didn't flinch when his former teammate suddenly invaded his proximity.

"_You_ know who killed Sakura?"

Sasuke's eyes narrowed, and the barest hint of humor curled up one corner of his mouth. Naruto peered at him, frustrated and grieved, then his own eyes finally widened with comprehension as he took note of crystalline green. He'd missed it before, apparently; maybe tears had blurred Sasuke's image from across the room. But now he stared at Sakura's eyes with dawning horror. He swallowed, and shook his head once in disbelief.

"It wasn't you."

"What makes you think that?"

"You wouldn't have hurt her. Not Sakura. We're a team..."

"We _were_ a team," Sasuke said through clenched teeth. Then he grabbed the front of Naruto's shirt and yanked him forward. "And you still know nothing about me." He released Naruto, who stumbled a bit before regaining his footing, but didn't fight back. He just watched Sasuke with increasing confusion.

"I don't believe it," he said.

"Neither do I," Shikamaru admitted. Possession of Sakura's eyes only put Sasuke at the scene of the fight. It didn't necessarily implicate him in her death. "You had nothing to gain from killing her. She didn't have any influence in Konoha. And her eyes were valueless to you."

Sasuke gazed at him, unimpressed. "Nara Shikamaru. I guess with your genius I should have expected you to figure it all out." Contempt dripped from every word. "Except that there's one thing you don't know. _She_ attacked _me_."

"No way," said Temari, challenging. "You were hiding yourself from everyone. The only way she would have found you is if you'd wanted her to..."

He barely acknowledged her presence, and turned back to Shikamaru.

"Kiba couldn't smell you," Shikamaru said. "Hinata and Neji couldn't see you..."

"You're right," Sasuke said, with disgust that, incredibly, sounded directed at himself. "I was cloaking myself from every type of chakra-enhanced detection."

Chakra-enhanced. Invisible to a Hyuuga, an Aburame, an Inuzuka, a Yamanaka. But not, necessarily, to an average shinobi using conventional detection techniques. Using the five natural senses.

Sasuke saw understanding come to Shikamaru, and he smirked. "Sakura's eyes might have been worthless compared to a sharingan. But compared to being blind, they were serviceable. After all, they were the eyes that found me."

"No," said Naruto.

"You're a child," said Sasuke. "And a fool. Wake up and see the world you really live in. Sakura refused to do it, and now she's a corpse."

Something broke in Naruto's face, as fury and grief finally outweighed incomprehension. He bared his teeth and yelled like a hurt animal, drew back a fist, and the white-hot light that formed in his hand resembled a rasengan for an instant. But it couldn't be a legitimate rasengan; instead, what Shikamaru guessed he was seeing was a wild manifestation of Naruto's pain, emotions that welled up, second-nature, into a charge of unbalanced chakra. He'd witnessed Sakura do the same thing on occasion, getting so angry that she leveled a tree or a wall with almost no thought at all. But, either way, this wasn't a battle that could be fought here inside his home. Or even in the village. Shikamaru caught his father's eye for a split second, saw Dad's muscles contract in preparation to move, but Shikamaru was closer and he jumped out instead, caught Naruto's bicep and forearm and held them back to keep him from striking out. The chakra sizzled in Naruto's hand, only a foot from Shikamaru's face, so poorly controlled that Shikamaru could smell the flesh burning in his palm.

"You can't do this," he told him. "It'll draw too much attention."

Naruto's breathing was harsh, his eyes wild. "He killed her..."

Truthfully, on some level Shikamaru still didn't believe this. And he didn't think that Naruto did, either. But this fight had nothing to do with him: if Sasuke wanted them to think he'd murdered Sakura, that was his problem. And if Naruto wanted to punch his lights out, well...it might be good for both of them.

"No chakra," Shikamaru murmured. "We can't have Root coming down on this house."

A long, tense moment passed before Naruto finally swallowed, and the fire in his hand fizzled and died. The stench of cooked meat turned Shikamaru's stomach; Naruto's balled his charred, blistered hand into a fist and, at that second, Shikamaru let him go.

Naruto struck out, a crazy punch that Sasuke easily avoided. Sasuke raised an arm to block the next punch, eyes narrowed, and Naruto screamed again, then placed both hands on Sasuke's chest and shoved. Sasuke stumbled back, but wrapped his hands around Naruto's wrists and yanked them down, held them together while Naruto tried to smash his forehead into Sasuke's nose. Sasuke dodged him again, but made no effort to retaliate. If Shikamaru had had any doubts before, it was clear now that this fight had nothing to do with revenge or rivalry. The entire time Naruto was trying to pummel Sasuke, Sasuke never took a hit. But he never hit back, either. And Naruto didn't seem to be fighting at full strength. Instead, he reminded Shikamaru of a preschooler having a tantrum; much more like the Naruto he remembered from Academy. Nothing like the hero that defeated Pain and saved the village. Sasuke noticed, too, and voiced his disgust.

"You're still too weak, Naruto! What made you think you'd ever be a match for me?"

Naruto choked, aimed a punch for Sasuke's head. Sasuke ducked, and Naruto's fist crashed into the wall, sank in to his elbow. He jerked it loose, pieces of drywall spraying onto the floor, and shook out his fingers. "Shut up!"

"Haven't you been listening? _I killed Sakura_! And you can't even-"

He didn't get to finish. He groaned instead, both hands coming up to clutch at his head, and he sank to his knees in the floor. Anger disappeared from Naruto's face, gone as quickly as it had come.

"What's wrong with you?"

Sasuke tried to speak, then gritted his teeth and groaned again, in obvious pain. He gave a wry, almost crazy laugh.

"She's angry..."

"Who's angry?"

A gasp, then he shouted, "Sakura, you blockhead!"

Then he pitched forward, barely getting his hands in time to keep from smashing into the floor, while Naruto stared at him, jaw hanging slack. Ragged breathing from the throats of both men filled the room. After a moment, Sasuke righted himself.

Now, though, his movements were hesitant. Disoriented. He glanced up at Naruto, then at everyone else in the room. Made eye contact with each person. Chouji and Ino, Temari and Sai. Mom and Dad. Then, finally, his eyes landed on Shikamaru. Only, now, the hate and coldness was gone, replaced by wonder. Those eyes filled with tears, shimmering on bottom lashes until a hand came up to swipe them away, annoyed and embarrassed. This wasn't Sasuke. Sasuke wasn't capable of this level of humanity.

"Sakura," he said.

"Yeah," she said, in Sasuke's voice. Only, not really. In the same way that the eyes reflected the owner's soul, the voice reflected the spirit. And this voice was higher, with sadness and regret. "It's me."

"Sakura?" Ino landed hard on her knees, caught Sasuke's body in a tight hug. "You're alive!"

"Not really," Sakura said, sounding too dazed to hug Ino back. "Sasuke-kun is alive. I'm sort of...riding in his body. For the time being."

Naruto, who had been staring with open shock, lowered himself to all fours. He searched her face, her eyes, spoke as if afraid of the answer. "Is it really you?"

"Of course it is. Do you think Sasuke-kun would ever blubber like this?"

His bottom lip quivered, then he reached out for her. He hesitated though, as if unsure if he would be permitted to touch her, but Ino moved out of the way and Sakura grabbed him, pulling him against Sasuke's chest. He embraced her, tears falling without shame.

Shikamaru felt a hand brush his, and he glanced over to find Temari by his side, observing him carefully. It was only then that he realized how disconnected he felt. From everything. He felt like an audience member here, as if Sakura and Naruto and Ino were actors on a stage rather than people he really knew. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what emotional response he was supposed to be having right now. Anger that Sakura was dead? Relief that she was back? Sadness? Anxiety? None of these came to him easily.

"Sakura," he said. "Sasuke didn't kill you, did he?"

"No. Danzo did."

"What?" Naruto drew back, fury in his features. "What do you-"

But Sakura waved him off. "It wasn't exactly unprovoked. Look, I _did_ fight with Sasuke-kun. But..." She sighed, frustrated. "...I couldn't bring myself to kill him. And he just kept saying that he didn't have time for this, he was in the village for a different reason and I was distracting him."

"To assassinate Danzo-sama," Sai said.

"Right. And I finally decided that if I couldn't kill Sasuke-kun, then my only other choice was to help him."

This sounded like nothing more than pure insanity to Shikamaru. But Ino was nodding soberly, and she clasped one of Sakura's hands in her own.

"But, in the end, I screwed that up, too." Fresh tears came to her and she rubbed them on Sasuke's sleeve. "I always screwed up when it came to Sasuke-kun." She turned her eyes on Naruto. "And when it came to you, too."

Ever-loyal, Naruto said, "You never screwed up with me, Sakura-chan."

"Yes, I did, but I didn't come here to talk about that. Not yet." She sniffed once and tilted her head back, blinking back the last of her tears. When she looked at Shikamaru again, she was all business.

"My deal with Sasuke-kun," she said, "was that I'd give him my eyes if he promised to bring me here. I wasn't going to need them, anyway, and there were things I had to say before I left this realm permanently. Sasuke-kun tried to convince me that he didn't know how to do it, but I figured that had to a lie. He spent too much time with Orochimaru not to pick up _something_."

Shikamaru nodded.

"So,"she continued, "when he took my eyes, he brought a piece of _me_ with him. Just a chakra imprint, really. And I'll only be with him until he replaces these eyes. That's what I'm here to tell you. The thing I know he'll be too proud to say to you himself."

"What is it?" Naruto said.

"Danzo took Sasuke-kun's sharingans."

Shikamaru nodded again, assimilating all of this information. It made sense, now. Sasuke blinded in battle, a dying Sakura offering him her eyes. At a price, she said, but he knew she would have done it either way. And, now, Sasuke was without the sharingan, but at least for the time being he could _see_.

And Sakura had made that deal with him, but she was right: Sasuke had come here for his own purposes. He wanted his eyes back, but without them would be unable to put up any kind of fight against Danzo. Even _with_ them, he'd lost.

"So you told him about our plans for Danzo?" Shikamaru said.

"Yeah. He thinks you're insane."

Ino smiled weakly. "But he's here, isn't he?"

"I don't know if that's such a good thing," Shikamaru said. Sasuke had spent his entire life refusing any kind of help from his Konoha colleagues. Why would he accept it now? And knowing what they knew about how dangerous he was, it wouldn't exactly be responsible to allow him to regain his sharingan. In fact, the most responsible thing would be to take advantage of these moments that Sakura had possession of his body, and kill him. And Sakura was a smart girl. She would have come to the same conclusion.

Her eyes met his, hard with resolve. "If you do it, I won't stop you," she said.

He said nothing. She couldn't have stopped him, anyway.

"Do what?" said Naruto.

"But I think it would be a mistake," Sakura said. "Sasuke can tell you what we didn't know before. The way that Danzo fights..."

"But is it worth the trade-off?"

"It might be. Just give him a chance."

"A chance? How many chances has he had, Sakura? And how many times has he acted in the most self-serving way possible?"

"What are you guys talking about?" Naruto was agitated, eyes darting back and forth between the two of them with suspicion. He knew exactly what they were talking about.

Sakura climbed to her feet, a little unsteady, probably in an attempt to be more convincing. But all Shikamaru took note of was the fact that all vital areas were exposed now, easily pinpointed because of the way Sasuke's shirt gaped open in the front. Heart. Lungs. Liver. "You have nothing to lose from waiting, Shikamaru. He's not a threat to you now."

Sasuke's strength was never his sharingan. It was his ability to be patient for what he wanted. The dangerous way he combined both physical brutality with cold, calculating intelligence. A true shinobi genius, in the way that neither Shikamaru nor Naruto could have ever been. _That_ was the threat. And when he imagined that danger unleashed against the citizens of Konoha, against his family and friends, Kurenai and her unborn baby, his fingers instinctively twitched toward his weapons pouch.

Naruto moved, putting his body between Shikamaru and Sakura, so fast that he disappeared in transit. He stared at Shikamaru, incredulous and hurt.

"Don't do it," he said.

"Naruto..." he began, but there was no way he was going to be able to convince him that killing Sasuke was necessary. It wasn't even worth the effort.

"Look," Naruto said. "He trusted _us_ enough to come here-"

"Sure he trusted _us_," Chouji said, surprisingly vehement. "_We're_ trustworthy. We're not the ones that abandoned our village."

"So? We're the ones that are going to get rid of Danzo and the whole government, right? We're bigger traitors than Sasuke ever was!"

"What kind of logic-" Temari began, but Naruto stared Shikamaru in the eye, with a look somewhere between stubbornness and pleading.

"You have to let me finish my game," he said. "You're the one who taught me how to play."

Shikamaru groaned internally. He still wasn't sure how Naruto did that. Because, despite all evidence to the contrary, whenever Naruto looked at him like that Shikamaru couldn't help but believe that he'd be able to accomplish everything he sat out to do. It was as if Naruto's belief in his own dreams was so strong that it leaked into the people around him.

"We might regret it," he said.

"Let me say it a different way," Naruto said. "You don't want a big fight in this house, but that's the kind you'll have if you try to go through me to get to Sasuke."

He sighed. "Great. That's fine. If you want to protect Sasuke, then fine. But here's the deal: you're going to be his guardian as long as he's in this village. And the decisions he makes, good or bad, will be your direct responsibility. Got it? You can't let him out of your sight."

Naruto nodded proudly. "Got it."

Defeated, Shikamaru rubbed his eyebrows. "Get used to not sleeping." He was talking mostly to himself, but it was Naruto that answered.

"No problem. I can keep a clone on him at all times."

"So, what happens now?" Ino asked Sakura. "How long will you be here with us?"

"Until Sasuke-kun doesn't need my eyes anymore," Sakura said. "But I won't be able to talk to you like this for much longer. Taking over Sasuke-kun's body was a one time good deal." She turned to Naruto and gave him a wistful smile. "And, before I let him have it back, there's something I still need to do." She glanced around the room diffidently, but then her shoulders straightened with resolve and she took a step toward Naruto. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, and, as quick as Shikamaru's brain usually was, it wasn't fast enough to warn him that he was about to see something private so that he could turn away in time.

She kissed Naruto. He stood in her embrace, stock-still, eyes wide, until water formed in his eyes. Then he melted, yielding to her with one, quiet sob. He slipped his hands behind her waist and held her close, kissing her back, and for the life of him, Shikamaru could not make himself stop watching. This was none of his business, and yet the sight of Naruto breaking while Sakura held him was too powerful to look away from. He felt Temari to his right, close enough to detect her warmth and feel her clothes brushing his. She didn't touch him again, though, and for that he was grateful. Physical contact would have been too much.

Sakura broke away and slipped a hand down until it rested on Naruto's chest. "I love you," she said seriously. But Naruto shook his head.

"You love Sasuke."

"I love you both. I can't help it."

He still looked unconvinced, like maybe there was a chance Sakura would mess with his head even in the afterlife. "Why wait to tell me that now?"

"I'm sorry." All of the sudden, she was angry at herself. "I'm sorry it took dying to realize how much I care about you. And how badly I've treated you."

"So, what does this even mean?" He scratched at his head like he was agitated. "You love me, but you're just going to turn around and leave forever?"

"I don't have much choice, Naruto." Then she bowed her head a little. "Would it have been better if I hadn't told you?"

"_No_," he said, then he took her face between both hands and stared right into her eyes. "Sakura-chan, you don't have to go. If Sasuke can move you into one body, he can move you into another-"

"It's not possible," she said. "I'm not even really here right now, you know. All you're talking to is what's left over of my will. But the real Sakura..." She put her head on his shoulder, hugged him tightly as though she could soften the blow of what she was about to say. "She's already dead."

"This isn't fair," he said. Then all of the sudden he gritted his teeth and tossed back his head, screamed out his anger and frustration and heartbreak at the ceiling. "This is _not_ _fair_!"

"I _know_ it's not, Naruto. But you know what else isn't fair?" He wouldn't look at her, but she grabbed his chin and made him face her. "It isn't fair for you to give yourself to someone who can only ever give half of herself back!"

He shivered in her grasp. "But I _love_ you."

"I love you, too. But, you know..." She looked at him through Sasuke's eyelashes, which required ducking her head farther than she would have had to if she'd been shorter than him. "...there's someone else who loves you, too. Loves you _all_. Not selfishly the way I do."

He shook his head, unwilling to accept this. "I don't care. I don't know who you're talking about."

"Yes, you do, dummy."

"It doesn't matter. I can't just trade you for someone else. I've loved you _forever_."

"I know. And I'm sorry I was never worthy of it."

Her voice trembled, and at first Shikamaru thought it was because she was crying. But then he realized that she was fading out, losing her tenuous control of Sasuke's body. She shook slightly, winced as though hit with a sudden headache.

"I'm going, Naruto."

"No. You've only been here for a minute!"

"A minute is forever, when you're fighting with Sasuke-kun. You should know that." She smiled at Sai, at Ino, at everyone in silent good-bye. Then she met Naruto's gaze again. "Listen. I need you to tell Kakashi-sensei goodbye for me. And my mom and dad, too, when this is all over."

"Sakura-chan, _no_..."

"And don't let Sasuke-kun go, whatever you do. Remember the promise."

"Wait..."

"Love you." She kissed him one last time, tears running down her cheeks, and Naruto clung to her back, her hair, as though he could hold her and keep her there. But her body tensed, shuddered, and a new tear formed at the corner of her eye: a blood-red one that trickled down and left a ghastly streak on Sasuke's pale face. When his body jerked away from Naruto, there was rage in his eyes bordering mania. Sakura was gone for good, Sasuke back in control, and he gasped, chest heaving, looked as if he was considering spitting in the floor. Instead, he spun away from them all and headed for the side door, the one through which he'd arrived.

"Sasuke, wait," Naruto said. Sasuke froze in place, as rigid as marble, but didn't respond. Naruto took a step toward him, but left him some space. "Did you hear all that?"

Of course he'd heard it. Judging by the way his neck and shoulder muscles tensed and flexed, he'd not only heard every word, he'd experienced every moment as though it had happened to him. And, technically, it had.

Naruto moved a little closer, and the death intent radiated from Sasuke like heat from an out-of-control wildfire.

"_Back_..._off_," he said, each word punctuated by hate.

"I can't. I have orders to follow you."

"If you follow me, I will kill you."

"Go ahead," Naruto said, a fresh tear rolling down his cheek, then dripping from his jaw. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself, anyway. If I let you leave here again. And Sakura-chan said-"

"She doesn't know what she's talking about," Sasuke said. "I have no intention of enlisting your help to kill Danzo. I have my own plans for him."

"No offense, Sasuke-kun," Ino said, very carefully, "but your plans didn't exactly work last time-"

This, apparently, was the straw that broke the snake's back. Sasuke flickered, vanished, and when he reappeared he had Ino by the throat, back to the wall, two feet off the ground.

"No one asked for you opinion," he said, tightening his grip. Ino gagged, grasped at his hands with clawed fingers, but he held firm. Shikamaru bolted toward her, but he was miles behind Chouji, and Sasuke never saw Chouji coming. Shikamaru had to wonder, later, if anyone had ever guessed what a threat Chouji could be. At that moment he wasn't even sure that _he_ had estimated him fairly.

Chouji grabbed the back of Sasuke's shirt with a Baika-doubled hand and jerked him away from Ino so hard that Sasuke lost his grip on her neck. She slumped to the ground, coughing, and Chouji slammed Sasuke backwards into the dining room table. It split down the middle and crashed to the floor, sending chairs flying in all directions, and Sasuke disappeared beneath shards of broken wood. But Chouji didn't give him a chance to get back up; he plucked him from the wreckage himself and lifted him by his throat, the exact same way Sasuke had been holding Ino seconds ago, only Chouji's hand was a thousand times stronger, a thousand times more deadly. He stared into Sasuke's bleeding, hate-filled eyes with equivalent animosity.

"Never touch her again."

The smell of ozone preceded the chidori, electricity crackling in the air near Sasuke's right arm, and purely by instinct Shikamaru sent out kage mane to capture them both before this could get out of control. Not that he wouldn't have loved to let Chouji obliterate Sasuke, but there were bigger things at stake, here.

But thoughts of staying below the radar, protecting his house, even protecting _Ino_, all fell away when he made contact with the two shadows. Chouji and Sasuke separated, stood inches apart, both of them emanating the fury that they weren't capable of acting on while trapped this way. And Shikamaru was left stunned by the anger he could feel coming from both of them, not only because it was so strong, but because it was so _similar_. Rarely could he sense a person's spirit through his shadow; only when the spirit was so powerful, emotions so raw that they spilled over into the chakra. But in Sasuke and Chouji both he could feel naked hatred, spiked with equal amounts of revenge, guilt, fear, and even jealousy. And some of these emotions he recognized all too well, now that he had Temari. Maybe not the jealousy, but he could easily _imagine_ feeling this way, could picture himself sinking into a hurt, blind rage if he had to, for example, listen to Temari confess her love for another man.

Chouji loved Ino. And, even more miraculously, Sasuke loved Sakura.

Maybe Sasuke understood this, and maybe he didn't. Maybe his love for her was so encased in ice that he didn't recognized it when he saw it. But Shikamaru saw it, in both men, and it gave him compassion that he probably wouldn't have been able to muster up a week ago.

"I know you want to kill Danzo," he said to Sasuke. "And you deserve to do it."

Sasuke watched him silently, and Shikamaru glanced at Naruto. "You both do. And I want to give you that chance."

"I don't need your help," Sasuke said.

"Yes, you do," Shikamaru said. "That's obvious. Chouji and I can overpower you now. How much stronger is Danzo than we are?"

A shiver of anger ran through Sasuke's body, and Shikamaru felt it like a jolt of electricity. But he gave no indication that he'd been stung. "More importantly, though, we need _your_ help. We need you to fight alongside us, and wait until we're ready to take him on as a group before you attack. If I don't have your word that you'll follow my orders until Danzo is dead, then I can't let you leave here. Ever." He realized what he'd said. _My orders._ As if _he_ was in charge of this thing. And he looked over to where Dad was standing, wondering if he'd crossed some line, curious to see how Dad had reacted to the words, if he had at all. But the man was gone. Slipped away during the altercation, right from behind Mom's back. And, so far, no one else had noticed.

"What good is his word?" Chouji said. "He gave his word to be loyal to Konoha, too. Oaths don't mean anything to him."

But Sasuke was still staring at Shikamaru, and Shikamaru mouthed the phrase only for him to see.

_On her life._

Sasuke's eyes widened slightly, his jaw tightened with some emotion that Shikamaru was unable to detect. His lips moved several times before he was finally able to force out, "Two days."

"Until he's dead."

A stiff fraction of a nod. "My word."

Shikamaru released them both, prepared for cataclysm. But none came. It was incredibly tempting to give Sasuke some order he wouldn't want to follow, just as a test. But he wasn't stupid. Just because he had a crocodile on a leash didn't mean it wouldn't turn around and bite his head off if he infuriated it enough.

Chouji glared at Sasuke, but stayed rooted to the spot, and Ino gazed at him with something like childish awe. Sasuke took several deep breaths, obviously focusing on containing his anger, and in a moment his face blanked over, as cold as ever. It was terrifying, in a way, to watch a man swallow that much negative energy. One day it would break out. If he didn't let it go, a little at a time, it would destroy him.

Maybe it already had.

"Where are you going?" Shikamaru said, when Sasuke turned for the door.

"To get my team."

"You have a team?" Naruto asked, to which Sasuke replied, in a bitter voice:

"Why? Jealous?"

Naruto shrugged.

"I sent them into the forest after our fight," Sasuke said. "Is your 'army' going to let them back in?"

"They will," said Shikamaru. "You have two hours."

Another moment of extreme effort on Sasuke's part followed, as he struggled with obedience. Then he gave a brusque nod and glanced at Naruto.

"I assume you're going to chase me," he said.

Naruto looked thoughtful for a moment, then he pressed his lips together grimly. "Maybe that's why I'm always too late to catch you," he said. "I never assume you're going to run."

**O O O**

Shikamaru sent a half-dozen of Naruto's clones with Sasuke, but kept the real Naruto here at the base so they would know immediately if Sasuke had betrayed them. Once they were gone, he looked over to where his mother was, expecting Dad to have returned. But he still wasn't back. Sai, however, stepped forward, his expression inscrutable. Of course. _He_ still had a job to do. He'd come here to arrest Shikamaru, and would have no choice but to follow orders. That threw a serious wrench into things.

"It's too bad that I have to do this," Sai said, "considering the circumstances."

"You're telling me."

"But if I don't bring you back to Danzo-sama, he'll come after you himself. And I won't be able to help your father anymore."

Dad appeared on the stairs, having changed his uniform for civilian clothes, and descended them while everyone waited. He stood directly in front of Sai, his face sober, his back uncharacteristically straight.

"That's not technically true."

"Nara-san?"

"I'm placing myself under arrest," Dad said, "for commanding a subordinate in direct violation of the Hokage's orders."

"Dad!" Shikamaru said, just as Mom sputtered, "Shikaku! You _can't_-"

"Yes, I can. I was only thinking of Shikamaru's health when I did it, but the fact remains that I broke the law. I have to give myself up."

His _health_. Right. Like Danzo would believe that for a second. But Dad was giving them the official story, the one they would be expected to spread to all their friends and neighbors. Dad had forbidden Shikamaru to obey Danzo's orders to appear in his office on the advice of a medical officer, because, in her "professional" opinion, he was still on the mend. Treason on a technicality, but treason, nonetheless. "But, Dad," Shikamaru said, trying to force reason through his skull. "What you're admitting to is a lot worse than failing to comply with a single order."

"In two days, it won't matter. We just have to hope Danzo waits that long to sentence me." He smiled thinly, and Mom's face contorted with anger.

"That's not funny."

"Sorry." He held up his wrists for Sai, who tied them with a chakra-infused rope.

"Don't do this," Shikamaru said. "I'm not that important. Who's going to lead this rebellion while you're gone?"

"From what I saw, you were already leading it."

"But, Dad..."

Sai looked back and forth from Dad to Shikamaru, clearly torn, but Dad gave him a little tug toward the door. "You don't need to think about this, Sai. Just follow normal protocol."

Sai nodded slowly, and Mom watched them both, face pale and hard. It was hard to tell if she was mad or worried. Dad leaned over to place a kiss on her forehead, which, at any other time, would have turned Shikamaru's stomach to the point of nausea. But not today.

"From now on," Dad told him, "you're the commander of these troops. You have my full confidence." He raised his bound hands together to salute Shikamaru, then allowed Sai to lead him through the door.

Then he was gone.

Gone. Left Shikamaru behind, with absolutely no idea of what he was supposed to be doing. So far he'd been kept in complete darkness, and Dad's transfer of command didn't conveniently bring enlightenment along with it.

He glanced around at "his" army, feeling like a deer caught in a bright light. Everyone else seemed to be reflecting his face, because they stared back in shock and disbelief. It looked like no one had seen this coming. Had Dad been expecting it all along? Or had he made this decision on the fly, presented with no other option?

After a long silence, there was a shuffle of movement to his left. He looked over at Chouji, then blinked with surprise when he bowed to him, low and deep, a clear and embarrassing sign of honor. After a beat Ino followed his lead, just as respectful. Shikamaru caught motion from his right: Temari bowing, followed by Naruto. Then he glanced up at Mom, who's jaw tightened slightly before she controlled it. She lowered herself, slowly, to her knees. Then she bent over and placed her forehead and palms on the floor.

"Bring him back," she said. "Please."

Her request woke him up, like a slap in the face. He was in _command_ now, and he was letting Sai lead Dad away, with no idea of where, exactly, they were headed or what might happen to him. He reached out instinctively for the soldiers he had readily available, two people he knew he could count on.

"Chouji. Ino."

They straightened, at instant attention.

"Follow Sai," he said. "Do everything in your power to find where they'll be keeping Dad. And, no matter what, do _not_ let yourselves be seen."

"Roger."

They were gone in a flash, leaving him with Mom, Naruto, and Temari. In essence, without an army. He wished he could send more people to watch Dad, but his hands were tied at the moment. He couldn't order Naruto to do anything; Naruto had to stick around so he could give updates on Sasuke's position and activity. Temari was ridiculously useful, but he wanted her by his side at all times, unless he was given no other choice. Maybe that was pathetic, but he didn't care. And Mom...well, she was Mom. She wasn't going anywhere.

"Shikamaru."

Mom was on her feet, untying the blue bandana.

"What?"

"Permission to assist Chouji and Ino."

"Huh?"

She let the bandana flutter onto her perfectly swept entryway, then took off her voluminous apron and chucked it onto the floor. Up until now, he hadn't really noticed what she was wearing under it: strips of leather that crossed over a fishnet shirt, and black, standard-issue hakama. A _uniform_, like something from twenty years ago, and so revealing that he was embarrassed to look at her.

"Mom..." he began, but she grabbed one of the pouches of kunai from beside the door and put her hand on the door knob. She watched him, expectantly.

"Well?"

He gaped, brought up short by the knowledge that he literally knew _nothing_ about his parents, or what they'd been doing while he was busy with his own life. Mom was _ready_. Not jumping into something out of worry, but legitimately prepared for such a situation. Her upper back and shoulders looked lean and trained, and he just shook his head from disbelief. Why hadn't he noticed any of this before?

"Shikamaru, snap out of it," Mom barked. "Make a decision."

"Uh..." He blinked, trying to decide if he needed his mother for anything else. She wasn't an asset he'd considered before, but now that he knew he had her, it would be stupid to just let her run off without thinking. But, no, he _wanted_ her to follow Sai. He'd been wishing for a third set of eyes, and here they were. Focused. Determined. Kind of horrifying.

"Yeah," he said, and he cringed internally at the thought of ordering Mom around. "Please do."

She jerked her head and threw open the door, then disappeared into the dusky evening. The door hung open, and a breeze made the discarded bandana flutter gently before Temari closed it. She looked at Shikamaru, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Wow," she said.

He just nodded, his mind was already elsewhere. He had a hundred thousand things to think about now, and he couldn't afford to be lazy or relax, even for a second. There was so much to take into consideration. He wasn't afraid that he wouldn't be able to figure everything out, given time, but it was difficult to locate the point from where he should start.

"Any word on Sasuke?" he asked Naruto, who shook his head, his eyes far away.

"My clones are still with him. No news is good news, right?"

Shikamaru knew he had to be reflecting on today's events. He was being remarkably useful, remarkably loyal for someone that had absorbed the emotional hit he'd been given.

"Naruto. Go take a nap."

His eyebrows furrowed, a bit like a puppy. "I'm not really tired."

Shikamaru knew this. He also knew that it would be cruel not to give Naruto time to himself, to cry or think or whatever he might want to do. It was wrong to keep him here, when he wasn't the type to ever admit when he needed a break.

"You can use Ino's room. There's an extra bed."

Naruto looked as though he was considering arguing, but he finally deflated and obeyed. It was a despondent figure that made its way up the stairs, and after a door on the second floor clicked shut Shikamaru heard the thump of knees hitting hardwood floor. Temari elbowed him, then bobbed her head toward the stairs.

"He'll be okay, you know," she said.

"Yep."

She examined him, her blue-green eyes dark with concern. "Are _you_ going to be okay?"

He wasn't sure what she meant, wasn't even really listening. He knew she was beautiful, was glad she was here with him. Otherwise, he was thinking about Dad and Danzo. About Naruto and Sasuke. About Chouji and Ino. About Sakura. "Yep."

She opened her mouth again, but the sound of the side door sliding open caught their attention. Genma dropped in, followed by Anko and Ebisu.

"Yo," Genma said. "Where's Shikaku-san?"

Shikamaru sneaked a look at Temari, who was watching him with her eyebrows raised, then he took his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Dad was captured. I'm assuming command of this operation."

They glanced at the wreckage in the dining room, at the demolished table and the deep hole in the drywall, then at each other as if deciding amongst themselves whether or not to trust him. But they quickly came to some nonverbal agreement, clearly based on something that had been previously decided upon or ordered. Dad must have at least prepared _them_ for this eventuality.

They bowed to him, reassigning their allegiance, and when they stood up again Ebisu resettled his glasses on his nose.

"Any orders?"

Temari smirked at him, and he knew she was thinking the same thing he was. Time for the veil to come down.

"Yeah," he said. "I want the three of you to divulge everything my father commanded you to hide from me."

* * *

**A/N:** Hey, there. Been a while, ne? Here's a new chapter; I hope there are still some people out there that are interested. I have another one that I'm wrestling with, that's almost done, and then it'll be about time to wrap this fic up. I went back today and updated all the chapters so that the formatting looks pretty again, and I changed a few minor things. Nothing major to the plot. However, there's a new untagged dialogue at the beginning of chapter eleven that kind of amuses me. :)

I'm sorry that it's been so long, but it's good to get some motivation for this again. I've really enjoyed writing these chappies. I hope you've enjoyed reading! Please leave me a review if you're still following, and are interested in seeing how this plays out. Next time we learn a few secrets, figure out what the heck is wrong with Shikamaru's mental state, try and wrangle Sasuke, and enjoy some angsty lime. I'd like to give an en extra-special thank you to Randomonium, Coelha-chan, MajorStranger and BigPockets for the editing help, and **Happy Thanksgiving** to my fellow yanks!


End file.
